My Fair Crazy
by ManuscriptMaiden21
Summary: A new year of Hogwarts brings yet another DADA professor, and this time, it's an ex-actress from rural Scotland. What happens when she makes it her personal mission to annoy Severus Snape? Flirting, show-tunes, and much more!
1. Chapter 1

Another day, another fanfiction! Let me know if you think I should continue. Oh, and my OC has a Scottish accent, but I'm not quite sure how to type it, so please use your imagination!

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Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, intently examining the document held between his spindly fingers. It was a pleasantly chilly September afternoon, and the students had

arrived just yesterday. Sunlight streamed through the great glass windows behind his desk, overlooking the vast grounds of Hogwarts, where a carriage could be seen

rollicking towards the school from a distance. The Headmaster turned and nodded at the sight of the carriage. "_That must be her now."_ His twinkling blue eyes gleamed

mischievously as they glanced at Fawkes, preening his gold blazon feathers. A chuckle escaped Albus's lips. "Another year, and yet another Defense professor, aye, Fawkes?"

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It was evening in the Great Hall, and before the usual feast began, Dumbledore took his spoon and tapped against his goblet. Soon, everyone present was listening with full

attention. He rose from his seat and addressed the room. "As I have said before, it is my honor to welcome everyone to a new year at Hogwarts, and because fresh starts

bring new faces as well as old, I would like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Ms. Muriel Bernadette." Dumbledore gestured to the very end of the

staff table to a woman whom nobody had noticed come in. She beamed at the students and staff, a twinkle in her eye. McGonagall gazed at her outfit with approval. Muriel

was clad in a red tartan arisaid dress, a green tonag, a Victorian style grey bonnet, and if you could see her feet, sturdy Wellington boots. She was rather nice to look at, but

their wasn't anything extraordinary about her that held the students' attention for long. She had a ruddy face, long and wild auburn hair, mischievous hazel eyes, and a

cheerful smile that carried a playful mien. Dumbledore nodded for her to speak. She cleared her throat and gave a brief speech in her heavy Scottish brogue. "It's an honor

to work with such esteemed professors here at Hogwarts. I look forward to seeing you all in class." She shrugged. "Well, that's all I have to say. I have a sore throat." A few

students laughed as this as she nodded, sat down, and waited for Dumbledore to continue. He chuckled. "Well, I do believe Professor Bernadette just set the record for the

shortest opening speech. On that note, tuck in!"

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Muriel examined her surroundings with a relish. She had missed Hogwarts dearly, and now, wonder of wonders, she could teach here! She grinned as she looked at her old

House table, Hufflepuff. Eager students chattered away about their summers, and teachers discussed their lesson plans. She reached for a goblet of milk to cool down her

burning throat. "_Damn, I hate cold weather!" _As she sipped from her goblet, Muriel continued to look up and down the staff table until one professor in particular caught

her eye. A greasy-haired man with a hooked nose and pallid skin sat alone at the far end of the table, eating quietly. She cocked her head to one side and stared at him

curiously until he looked up. His dark eyes were cold and forbidding, like he was trying to burn a hole into her. She grinned at him and waved, sniggering as he rolled his eyes

and took his glare back to his plate. Muriel grinned down at her plate as she ate.

This year was going to be _fun._


	2. Chapter 2 Pests and Pecks

Thanks for the kind reviews, and sorry about that last chapter 2. I sent out the Chapter 2 DRAFT by mistake. Woops! Oh, and this story is set in _Chamber of Secrets._

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The staff of Hogwarts were enjoying the sanctuary away from classes in the staff room. It was a peaceful afternoon, the students enjoying the fresh air outside and spending

time with friends. McGonagall was knitting while having an intellectual discussion with Flitwick, while Hooch, Sinistra, and Vector gabbed about the upcoming Quidditch

season and their predictions of how the Chudley Cannons would do this year. Muriel was curled in a chair by an open window, it being warm enough to remove her

bonnet, enjoying her daydreams. Even Severus seemed a bit less moody today, flipping through a Potions magazine on the sofa. It was a wonderful tranquility, until the

portrait door opened with a 'BAM!' In stepped Gilderoy Lockhart, purple robes, toothy grin, and all. McGonagall scowled and ignored him, as did everyone except Muriel, who

didn't stir from her hay gathering. "Hello, everyone! Beautiful day, isn't it?" said Lockhart with a sickening cheerfulness. When no one answered, he looked about the room

until his gaze fell upon Muriel. His smiled fell into a dazed expression. He stood there until the others started looking at him. His eyes were locked on her, his jaw was slack,

and he stood perfectly still. Flitwick raised an eyebrow. "Something the matter, Gilderoy?" Lockhart snapped out of it and flashed Flitwick a reassuring smile. "No, Filius,

I'm fine, thank you." He sauntered across the room, and took the seat across a table from Muriel. He cleared his throat to get her attention. Muriel flinched slightly and

turned to him, then smiled. "Oh, hello." Lockhart gave her his most charming grin and said, "I don't believe we've met, madam. My name is Gilderoy Lockhart. I'm sure

you've heard of my book, _Magical Me_?" She thought for a second before shaking her head. " Muriel Bernadette, and I've never heard of you or that book, sorry to say." Hooch

snorted into her pumpkin juice as Lockhart's face fell for a moment. He smoothed back his hair and raised an eyebrow, which prompted McGonagall to gag. "Well then,

perhaps you'd like to stop by my chambers tonight? I could show you a thing or two." Muriel straightened up and scowled at him. "The only thing I want to see is you gettin'

the bloody 'ell away from me before I kick your ass, you blonde troll!" Lockhart drew back for a moment, then smirked. "_She's just playing hard to get!" _He placed a hand on

her chin and grinned. "There's no need to be that way, my dear. I've fought banshees that are twice as stubborn as you." Muriel stood up, affronted. "Get away from me, you

twit!" From behind, she felt someone place a hand on her shoulder. "She said no, Lockhart. Leave her alone" said a venomous, yet silky voice. She turned her head to see

Snape, scowling at Lockhart, wand-arm twitching. Lockhart stood up and leered a bit. "Ah, now I see. My dear, you should have said you were taken! My apologies, Severus."

As Lockhart turned to leave, he winked at Muriel. "Of course, that offer can be taken up at anytime, Ms. Bernadette." Snape ground his teeth as the Blonde-Blunder finally

left. "Severus, thank you for getting rid of that half-wit, but can you let me go now?" Severus looked down at Muriel to see that he still had an arm around her, a pointed

expression on her face. He quickly let go of her and muttered a "You're welcome." She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Something you want to tell me?"

He scowled at her and took his place back in his seat. Muriel looked about the room to see smirks and questioning looks on the faces of her female colleagues. She

shrugged, walked over to Severus, bended over to his eye-level, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank ye kindly, dear." Vector and Hooch laughed as Snape's cheeks

turned to a light pink, Muriel grinning mischievously at him as she walked out of portrait hole.

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Hey, check out this great story if you have the chance! It's called "Sophia's Choice." I highly recommend it for all the Snape fans out there.


	3. Chapter 3 Crash Landings and Bets

As always, thanks for the reviews. Also, I have a contest for you lot. Whomever can give me the best way to torture Lockhart, I'll put it in a future chapter. (Recognition will be given, of course!) Please submit with your review. Thank you, and enjoy the story! Cheers! - Madam Maiden

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Muriel was bolting down the corridor like a Firebolt drag-racing at the Muggle Indie 500. She had forgotten papers that were due to Dumbledore immediately in her

chambers, and she didn't trust herself to summon them. The corridors were clear, as it was a Saturday, and she was just about to make a turn around the corner until she

crashed into something with a "SMACK!" The something toppled over and landed right on top of her with a "THUD!" "Owww...what the bloody-oh, sorry, Severus." Muriel

blushed a bit when she realized she was flat on the floor, nose to nose with the Potions Master. Snape barked at her, "Watch where you're going!" Muriel scowled, but a sly

smirk crept upon her face. "Hm. Severus, is that your wand, or are you just pleased to see me?" He scowled at her and tried to stand up. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting

something?" Muriel looked up and clenched her teeth. "What do you want, Lockhart, you troll?" Lockhart swished his blindingly magenta robes and flashed his equally blinding

signature grin. "I happened to be walking along the corridor when I saw you two love-birds together." He raised an eyebrow at them. "Although, this isn't the best place for

_that._" He wagged a finger at Muriel. "Self-control, young lady, self control." Muriel stood up, waited until Lockhart had his back turned, pulled out her wand, and aimed.

"_Appicus!" _She laughed heartily as Lockhart was chased out of the corridor by a swarm of bees, screaming his head off. "_That should keep __that codger busy for a while!" _She

smoothed out her skirts, and turned to Severus. "Sorry about that, dear." She pecked him on the nose in apology, grinned, and sped off down the corridor, laughing as he

turned Gryffindor scarlet, and furiously called after her, "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

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Little did they know, Lockhart wasn't the only one who had witnessed their little meeting in the hall. Professor Vector, Sinistra, McGonagall, and Sprout had been carrying

a conversation down a following hallway, when they stopped in time to watch Muriel crash smack-dab into Severus. The women stifled back laughter as they watched Muriel

hex Lockhart, and as Severus's voice cracked as he yelled at her. Vector smirked and came from around the corner. "Ladies, I propose a wager." Sprout raised an eyebrow,

"Do tell, Septima." The smirk deepened. "By the end of the year, those two will, as the students say, "hook up." McGonagall stepped in, "It's a bit immature for our age, but

you have my money in favor of that. 20 galleons on the table is fair, correct?" Sinistra put in her two cents, "Sounds good to me! Anyone opposed?" Then Sprout, "I do. I

highly doubt Severus would warm up to anyone, especially a girl like Muriel. I'll bet against." Vector looked at each of her colleagues, "So it is agreed, then?" They all nodded

in confirmation. McGonagall gave a somewhat Slytherin-esque smirk to her colleagues, "May I add to the bet?" Vector nodded, "Of course, Minerva." "30 galleons says that

Muriel kicks Lockhart's arrogant, prissy ass by the end of the year." Sprout laughed, "That's not fair to bet on. That's inevitable!" The women made their way to the Great

Hall. The die was cast.

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Muriel was once again in the staff room, this time, reading a rather fascinating favorite of hers, _Pygmalion. _She was just about to turn the page when the portrait door

opened and someone stepped inside. Of course, it was her favorite Potions Master. She drew her attention back to her book. "Good evening, Severus." Snape gave a curt

nod as strode towards his seat at the _far_ end of the room. "Professor Bernadette." Alas, Severus didn't notice Muriel's foot was in his path. He tripped, stumbled, tried to

regain his balance, but fell backwards and onto the sofa, right into her lap. She laughed and brushed back his hair from his face. "Ello gov'na! Nice of you to drop in!" Snape

stood up, cast a fiery glare at her, and sat as far away from her as physically possible. Muriel rolled her eyes. "_I'm starting to think you're enjoying this." _


	4. Chapter 4 Chorus Line

I've got some really good suggestions on how to torture Lockhart. Keep 'em coming!

Disclaimer so I don't get sued: I do not own any of the characters, settings, or locations from the Harry Potter franchise. I also do not own _any_ of the songs from the play "Oliver!" All rights go to their respective owners. I own nothing but Muriel, and the locations and characters of my own creation. Please do not sue me, shut down my account. All flamers will take up their problems with my attorneys, Fluffy and the Hungarian Horntail. Any questions? No? On with the story!

(Oh, and if you want to hear this song, go to YouTube, search "Oom Pah Pah" lyrics, and click on the first video. That's what Muriel sounds like in this.)

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Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Muriel, Snape, and Hagrid were heading down to the Three Broomsticks for a pint. (Or in Hagrid's case, 10 to fill his massive

tankard) Lockhart, unfortunately, had to come too because Albus thought it rude to "exclude" him. It was Sunday, and the pub was full of the ruckus from townsfolk enjoying

their liquor. Muriel was quite enjoying herself, despite Lockhart's constant attempts to flirt with her. "_I'm really regretting wearing this bodice. I'm sick of Lockhart _

_staring at __my l__egs." _ Flitwick chimed in, "So dear, Albus tells us that you used to be an actress. What plays were you in?" Muriel smiled fondly at the thought of her old

passion and replied, "I took the lead role in "Phantom of the Opera", which was a personal favorite. "Oliver!" was always fun. I played Nancy in that, and had a blast singing.

I was also in "My Fair Lady", "Singing in the Rain", "Annie", and "Les Miserables." Funny thing about Les Mis, I actually played both Cosette and Eponine. I originally had the

role of Eponine, but the woman who played Cosette fainted after the song "A Heart Full of Love", so I had to fill in." Flitwick and the others seemed readily impressed by this.

"Then why did you ever give it up?" Flitwick inquired. Muriel gave a sad shrug. "Well, I loved acting, but the Dark Arts were so fascinating. And when Dumbledore asked me

to teach here, it was either one or the other, so I gave it up for teaching." Snape nodded as he brought a glass of firewhiskey to his lips, "An admirable act." Flitwick nodded

in agreement, "Indeed it is. Perhaps you'd like to sing for us someday!" Muriel's sadness fled and manifested into a wild grin. "Perhaps you'd like to hear me now?" One of her

favorite tunes was playing, "Oom Pah Pah", and she had been itching to dance. Hagrid sat back in his chair. "This should be good!" Muriel went over to the bar counter and

sat on it. The men in the pub were looking at her, thanks to her outfit, a green dirndl bodice dress and thick black boots, her hair tumbling wherever it wanted. She cleared

her throat and rolled her eyes as a few whistled at her. In her strange Scottish/Cockney accent she yelled, "All right, shut up, you lot! A bit of culture now! 'Ere we go!" She

began. "_There's a little ditty_ _we're singin' in the city, 'specially when they been on the gin or the beer! If ya got the patience, your own imaginations will tell ya just exactly_

_what you want to hear!" _She stood up on the counter as the townsfolk helped her pick up the refrain, "_Oom pah pah! Oom pah pah! That's how it goes! Oom pah pah! Oom_

_pah pah! E'vryone knows! They all suppose what they want to suppose, when they hear Oom Pah Pah!" _She took a top hat and cane off a hat-rack and put it on, and sang,

"_Mr. Percy Snotgrass would always have the odd glass, but never when he thought anybody could see! Secretly he'd buy it, and drink it on the quiet, and dream he was an_

_earl, with a girl on each knee!" _Everyone picked up the refrain as she belted out, "_What is the cause of his red, shiny nose? Could it be Oom Pah Pah?"_ She took off the hat

and cane, and,_ s_eeing that there were no students, she lifted up the skirt of her dress just enough to reveal her ankles. "_Pretty little Sally goes walking down the alley, _

_d__isplays her pretty ankles for all of the __men. They can see her garters, but not for free or gratis! An inch or two and then she knows when to say when!" _At that line, she cast

a look at Severus and threw up her skirt far enough to flash her legs. "_Whether it's hidden, or whether it shows, it's the same Oom Pah Pah!" _She dropped her skirt and kept

singing, despite the wolf whistles. The women from Hogsmeade had gotten up out of their chairs and were dancing with her eagerly, while the men belted out the chorus with

gusto. "_She was from the __country, but now she's up a gum tree. She let a fella feed 'er, and lead 'er along! What's the good of crying? She's made a bed to lie in. She's glad _

_to bring the coin in, and __join in this song!" _At the refrain, she grabbed Severus's arm, placed a hand on his hip, spun him in a type of waltz, and spun him back, sending him

crashing back into his chair, the staff laughing as Muriel belted out with a wink at him, "_She is no longer the same blushing rose, ever since Oom Pah Pah!" _The chorus kept

going, and the townsfolk kept dancing with their partners, but Lockhart tried to dance with Muriel. Oh, and Muriel danced, alright! She grabbed him, spun him around, and

sent him falling backwards into the bar counter with a "CRASH!" As everyone laughed, she finished the last line with all the energy she had. "_The all suppose what they want _

_to __suppooooooose! When they hear OOM PAH PAAAAAH!" _The end of the song was met with thunderous applause and cheers as she jumped off the bar counter, went back to

the staff table, and grinned at Flitwick. "How was that?" They were all too busy laughing, but Severus was glaring at her. She grinned even more and said to him, "Sorry,

darlin', but I'm going to have to borrow your lap for a second." She swung her legs onto his lap and giggled at his just-thrown-into-an-ice-bath expression. Snape didn't look

angry, just embarrassed. Both by the fact he didn't like to dance, and the fact that the front of her bodice was cut very _low._ Muriel suddenly frowned at him. She smoothed

back his hair and adjusted his collar. "Damn, did yer Mum ever teach ya how to dress yerself?" Severus felt his face grow warm as the men at the table started to snicker.

He was still too shocked to push her off his lap, so he just sat there dumbfounded as she played with his buttons and collar. "There. That's been bugging me for the past

hour!" She turned to the male staff. "I dunno what you lot are laughing at. He's the one with a bit of skirt in his lap." She hopped off his lap, smoothed out her skirt, and,

just to prove her point, kissed him. Not on the cheek or nose, _directly_ on the lips. As she drew back, she laughed as his jaw hung slightly open. She winked and turned.

"I'm goin' to go get a bottle of whiskey. Don't get too used to that, dear!" As Muriel walked off towards the bar, she smirked to herself. "_Merlin knows I will." _


	5. Chapter 5 By the Light of the Moon

Thanks for the awesome reviews! Now, here's the next chapter!

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The caravan of professors were making their way up the path to Hogwarts. It was about 8 O'clock in the evening, and the stars were just coming out, the crescent moon

shining misty silver. The air was pleasantly crisp from a light rain that had fallen earlier, and a breeze rustled the hair of all passerby. McGonagall and Dumbledore walked in

front, while Flitwick and Hagrid were in the middle. Severus, Sprout, and Muriel were bringing up the rear. Severus glanced over to Muriel for a moment. Her auburn hair was

illuminated by the moonlight, her ruddy cheeks blossoming with dimples as she laughed at something Sprout just said. Her green hazel eyes seemed to sparkle when she

laughed. Her whole face lit up, and the laugh itself was hearty and rich, from the stomach, not the chest. He noticed she was looking at him queerly. "See something ya like

there, lad?" He turned and looked away, face burning. Sprout peered over at Muriel with a wink. She casually slipped into row with Flitwick and Hagrid, leaving Severus and

Muriel alone. Muriel subtly drifted closer and closer to Severus until they were walking abreast.

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He felt the heat radiating from her body as they strolled up the moonlit path. She was completely touching his side now, her hip curving into his. A hand snaked into his, and

his gaze flashed to her face, where a wink was waiting for him. He felt a swivet of emotion before he snapped back to his senses and snarled at her, yanking his hand away,

"Get away from me, damn it!" He wrapped his cloak defensively around himself and strode quickly up the path with a scowl plastered firmly upon his features, although a

slight shudder seemed to suggest otherwise. Sprout drew back to Muriel. "What's his problem?" she inquired. Muriel rolled her eyes, "Emotions." Sprout nodded. "Ah." Muriel

smirked. "I'm not goin' ter worry 'bout it. He'll come 'round." Sprout nodded, but thought to herself, "_30 galleons is in your favor, dear." _

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_"Why can't that loathsome dingbat just leave me be?" _

Severus was in his lab, brewing and contemplating his evening. He was chopping knotgrass furiously as he thought of Muriel. "_She's completely reckless, unprofessional,_

_vulgar, arrogant...beautiful, lively..." _He banished the last of his thoughts to the fire under his cauldron. His temple throbbed in irritation with every thought that trafficked

through his mind. What was this game she was playing? And why did she _insist_ on playing it with _him_? He threw his inhibitions into the fire. "_I hate her." _But, somehow,

he knew that was a lie.

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Leave a review, please. Next chapter will be up soon!


	6. Chapter 6 Halloween

As always, thank you for the reviews, from guests and members alike! If you ever have any suggestions on how to mess with/annoy/embarrass/harass Lockhart, always feel free to submit them to the author in your review! (Mwhahahahaaa!) Ahem, anyway, enjoy!

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Muriel wasn't going to let Severus bog her down. September had passed by in a flash, and the leaves were now blazon fiery colors. Halloween would soon be upon them! And

of course Dumbledore, always being the festive type, was throwing a Costume Ball in the Great Hall. The corridors were buzzing with excitement as students and teachers

were planning their costumes. Muriel already knew exactly what she was going to wear. She had been discussing it with McGonagall one day as they were walking down a

corridor. McGonagall turned to her, "I hear Albus is making the staff dress for the Masquerade Ball. What will you be wearing, Muriel?" Muriel smiled, "I'm going as Christine

from _Phantom of the Opera. _What about you, Minerva?" McGonagall rolled her eyes, "Albus has this ludicrous idea of us doing a joint costume with me posing as the Queen of

England, and him as the Duke of Normandy." The two kept chatting, oblivious to two eavesdroppers.

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Gilderoy Lockhart had been listening intently from a blind spot in the corridor. A smug expression came upon his face. "_Christine, my dear? Very well, then. I'll be the one _

_catching the rose at the end of this play!" _With an arrogant swish of his robes, he strut down the corridor to prepare himself for the ball.

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Severus was at the other end of the corridor behind a statue. He had seen Muriel coming, and had hidden himself for the curiosity's sake. "_The Phantom of the Opera? H_

_mm..." _He billowed down the corridor, the cogs of his mind turning.

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The night of the Masquerade Ball was upon them, and everyone was in their costumes at the Great Hall. The magic of Halloween was in the air, with portly jack-o-lanterns

looming over head, swarms of bats gallivanting in the air, rich pastries and sweets wafting their aromas about the hall, and the laughter of the students as they danced with

their partners and compared costumes. Muriel was still in her chambers touching up her costume, examining herself in a full length mirror. "_Christine was always such a_

_haughty costume. I hope I don't look tawdry." _She was clad in a long white lace empress dress, long linen gloves, and held a Victorian fan, also white lace, to match. A

single rose resided in her auburn curls, which had been pinned into an updo, the rest of them tumbling to her shoulders. After checking one last time to see if she was

in character, she made her way down the spiral staircase and to the Great Hall. The candlelight was dim in the Great Hall, only lit by the soft, flickering glow of the

jack-o-lanterns. Minerva and Dumbledore had proceeded with their Queen and Duke plan, looking rather grand together in their stately clothes. Sprout and Flitwick had

dressed as Roman deities, with Flitwick as Apollo and Sprout as Ceres. Vector was a vampiress, cloaked in blood red and charcoal black. Sinistra had come as Diana, another

Roman goddess, and Hooch had dressed as a Muggle named Amelia Earhart. Muriel was just about to join the other professors when she felt two hands on her waist. She

spun around and snarled at the sight before her. "_Lockhart" _she spat, clenching her wand in her fist. Lockhart was just as flamboyant as ever, decked out in a rich velvet

suit and a red neckerchief. He flashed a grin at her. "Ah, hello, my fair Christine! Look no further. Your Marius has arrived!" Muriel raised an eyebrow then burst out

laughing. "Nice try, you prat! Wrong play!" She walked away chortling and clutching her stomach, leaving Lockhart dumbstruck.

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A dark figure glided like a shadow into the Great Hall, a mass of billowing robes. Severus clutched one thing in his hand, a rose, a rose with a black velvet bow tied around

the stem. He still wasn't sure about his costume. Along with his signature cape, he wore a blood red vest, a white ruff neckerchief, black trousers, and pointed-toe black

suede shoes with white spats. But most importantly, a mask, a white mask that covered half of his face. He stalked in the shadows until he found the one person he was

seeking. With a billow of robes, sought after her.

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Muriel was leaning against a wall, eyes scanning the room, trying to pick out faces. She was just about to move on, until she felt a pair of hands snake around her waist and

pull her back into a dim corridor. She gazed at the dark figure looming above her and realized who it was. With a whisper she said, "At last, my Phantom."

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A trickle of sweat streaked down the side of Severus's face as he pulled Muriel closer to himself. Did he really want to do this? He scanned her figure closely. She

glowed an eerie white, even in the darkness, like a ghost. Her eyes sparkled with wonder into his own obsidian. His heart beat quickened as she drew closer, circling an arm

around his neck, her whispers dancing in his ear. "Has the Angel of Music come to take me away at last?" He replied, the sound gasping in his breath, "Beware the Phantom

of the Opera." He smashed his lips onto hers, and, at last, the gap between them closed. The moonlight shone through a window nearby, illuminating the pair as it contrasted

with the candlelight. The rose fell to the floor, and Christine was at last swallowed by her Phantom's cloak.


	7. Chapter 7 Halloween (The Aftermath)

Hello, all! Check out this awesome-sauce story, "Sophia's Choice II: Shadows of Extinction." While you're looking for cool stories such as this, pop in and check out this, "My Brother's Butler" Check ''em out, and leave a review for the fine authors of these stories!

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The female members of the staff, young and old, sat gabbing and giggling as happily

as scandalous seventh years. Professor Vector, ever the gossip, sat at the head of

them all. "I was walking along to grab a goblet of punch, when I thought I heard

something coming from a nearby corridor. I lit my wand, expecting to see students,

but no! I simply couldn't believe what I was looking at!" she exclaimed dramatically,

placing a hand over her eyes. They all leaned in, urging for her to go on. Vector

smirked and continued, "There was, oh Merlin, there was Muriel and Severus, face

deep in each other!" The group of women burst into teenage giggles, gasps, and rolled

eyes. Sinistra chimed in, "Details, if you please!" Vector stood up, grabbed a black

blanket off of a chair, and draped it around her shoulders like a cloak. With a dramatic

sweep of her arm, she pretended to put her arms around someone. She mimicked

Muriel's Scottish accent, "Has the Angel of Music come to take me away at last?" In a

deep baritone, she swished the blanket dramatically and said a sultry tone, "Beware

the Phantom of the Opera." With a howl from the women, she pulled the pretend

person closer and pretended to passionately snog it. "Well, Aurora, it was _much_ better

than _that_, but not all of us can be actresses!" The whole gaggle of women jumped and

turned, Vector's blanket falling to the floor. Their eyes grew wide at the site of Muriel,

calmly sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and saucer in her hands, legs crossed.

Sinistra blushed and mumbled, "When did you come in here?" Muriel casually

examined the face of her pocket-watch. " Oh, about 20 minutes ago, and if you must

know, it was more like _this_."

SSSSSSS

Severus was waiting impatiently in the hallway for Muriel to come out of the staff

room. The night was still young and passionate, and he was rather looking forward to

spending some, ahem, _alone_ _time_ with Muriel. He was leaning against a wall, arms_  
_

crossed, one foot pounding against the marble floors, and annoyed huffs dancing on

his lips. Suddenly, he felt arms around _his _waist, pulling him backwards. He spun

around and saw Muriel, a gleam in her eye.

SSSSSSS

Muriel gave a triumphant smile at the women, threw her arms around Severus's neck,

and said, "No, it was more like _this_." She smashed Severus onto her lips, smirked at

the women, then at Severus as she was leaving. "Coming?" Severus smirked devilishly

grabbed her arm, and ran out with her. The night was young, and tonight, so were they.


	8. Chapter 8 Merry Christmas, Darlin!

As always, thank ye, all. Next chap! (And forgive me for the poor formatting. I'm typing these on my iPod.)

SSSSSSS

The fiery October had flown away with the leaves with the golden Autumn. It was

December, and the castle was soon shimmering with gold and silver tinsel and basking

in the aroma of richly decorated Douglass firs. Muriel was greatly looking forward to

Christmas! Soon, she would be packing up her bags and taking the train to her

hometown, Earrach. "It will be so good to see them all again" she thought one day

while teaching class.

SSSSSSS

Severus wasn't excited for the holidays, as usual. He was rather depressed about

Muriel. Their night on Halloween had been beautiful, but their relationship had gone

back to the way it had been earlier. Although, it wasn't that upset him. He was content

with their friendship. It was the fact that she was leaving. He stalked across the

snowy grounds of Hogwarts alone. Always, alone.

SSSSSSS

It was finally time to bid the students farewell for the holidays. The staff met in their

meeting room one last time, and everyone was gabbing eagerly about their plans,

except Severus. He had exiled himself to his usual corner, nursing a cup of tea with a

small dose of brandy for potency. Muriel walked into the room, cheer written in her

dimples and eyes.

SSSSSSS

Muriel examined the room. The entire staff was here! Everyone greeted her warmly as

they sipped piping hot drinks before the crackling hearth, except one. Muriel glanced

at the cold corner Severus was occupying with a frown. She walked over to him and

sat down on an ottoman. Everyone's eyes seemed to follow her, and the voices died

down a bit. Muriel smiled at him, "Merry Christmas, gov'na!" Severus cast a bored

expression at her and nodded. She tried again. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

He stirred his tea, and, with the same blasé tone, replied, "Grading papers and

preparing lesson plans." Muriel frowned. "That's not any fun!" He rolled his eyes and

took a sip. The staff was curious and listened intently. Muriel persisted further. "What

about your family?" Severus shrugged. "Dead, all dead." A fleeting look of pity

flashed through her eyes before Snape could catch it. She stayed in a thoughtful

contemplation before her eyes lit up. "You should come spend the holidays with my

family and I! Always room for one more!" Severus shook his head and replied dryly,

"No, thank you." Muriel thought for a moment. She smacked a kiss on his cheek and

said innocently, "Please?" She batted her eyelashes as she pulled away from him. He

sat up and tried not to turn pink. He looked into her eyes, which was a mistake. Her

eyes sparkled disarmingly with laughter and affection. A trace of pity sat near the

edge of the hazel pools, which reminded him of Spring. "Um...I don't..." She kissed

him again, light as a butterfly and barely noticeable to the touch. The words stumbled

from his mouth as he cleared his throat slightly. "Fine." She patted him on the knee,

stood up, and grinned. "Lovely! Meet me at the gates at 8 tomorrow morning. See ya

then, darlin'!" He scowled, "Stop. calling. me. that." Muriel turned around and

smirked. "Not. going. to. happen. _darling_!" A few sniggered as Severus turned deep

red and nursed his tea, although he held, (dare they say hope?), in his eyes.

SSSSSSS

Severus stood outside of the gates of Hogwarts, clutching a small, black leather

satchel. His pocket watch read 7:50. He was early. Severus looked around until he

spotted a figure running towards him from the distance. Before he could move, he

was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. "Ello, darlin'!" The figure, who of course was

Muriel, unhanded him and straightened herself out. She was clad in her bonnet, which

had sprigs of holly tied to it, a Civil War green velvet tartan dress, white petticoats,

white wool stockings, a black shrug, long pearl-bow gloves, her trusty wellies, and

usual tonag. She clutched a floral carpet-bag in one hand, and a brown paper package

tied up with string. Muriel thrust the curiously shaped package into his hands. "Merry

Christmas, darlin'." Severus looked down at the package, then at Muriel. "You didn't

have to get me anything." She waved him off. "I don't want to hear it. I _wanted_ to get

you a present." He looked at her a bit blankly and replied numbly, "Thank you." She

was about to reply when a carriage pulled up the path. He looked at her queerly.

"Why don't we just Apparate?" She shrugged and with a mischievious gleam in her

eye, replied, "The journey is half the adventure!" She pulled open the door to the

carriage, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up and in. "Hop in!" The door shut, and the

coach took off. And oh, what an adventure this would be!


	9. Chapter 9 The Moors of Earrach

Thank you, guests and members for the reviews. Next chapter is here. Enjoy! (Oh, and I'm finally able to get to my computer. Yay! No more crappy formatting! Oh, and I forgot to say something in the earlier chapters, so "Happy Belated Easter and April Fool's Day!" (And please, don't forget: Muriel and her family all have THICK Scottish accents. I just don't know how to type them, so please imagine them."

SSSSSSS

The carriage rollicked along the road until Hogwarts was out of site. The large villages and towns dashed by until they reached the cantering moors of Scotland, dusted

with white. Muriel's gaze was far-off, somewhere in the fields of Earrach where the children laughed and sang, the air smelled crisp and earthy with neatly plowed fields, and

the old were wise, clutching gnarled shillelaghs and tonags that smelled of clover and smoky hickory stoves. Her chin was resting in her hand, leaning her elbow onto an

armrest on the side of the carriage. Severus's gaze, which was not so far away, was lingering on the brown-paper package in his hands. He looked to her for a moment, not

quite sure what to say. A voice, a rather unfamiliar voice at that, was ringing in the back of his mind. "_Say something, you twit! You'd be spending another Christmas alone in _

_the __dungeons if she hadn't...persuaded you...to come along on this __little excursion. Don't just sit there like a gutless ninny!" _He cleared his throat and turned to her. "How

many of your relatives are going to be here for Christmas?" Muriel snapped out of her daydreams. "Hm?" He repeated himself. "How many of your relatives will be visiting?"

She rubbed her eye and smiled. "Oh! Well, most live in Earrach, so only a few of my relatives will be coming out of town. My Auntie Agnes and Uncle Baldwin will probably be

visiting from Glasgow, and my cousins ought to be coming in as well. Uncle Charlie and Auntie Beatrice _might_ pop in for a pint, but they usually go on holiday during this time

of year. My sister, Alana, will be there of course, and all of my brothers, the damn rascals, will definitely come in and drive Mum mad! Oh, and my mother's name, in case

she lets you call her, is Shona. My father's is Archibald, but if he takes a shine to you, it'll just be Archie." Severus took a moment to soak all of this in before he asked,

"How many brothers do you have?" Muriel grinned devilishly and replied, "Twelve." Severus could have fainted, but instead he asked in almost a joking way, "Are you in any

relation to the Weasley's? Muriel chuckled, "No, but you'd be surprised how often I'm asked that!" They chatted for a while longer before the carriage came to a stop.

Muriel peeked out the window and grinned, "Welcome to Earrach, the bonniest town on this side of the moor!" She hopped out with her carpet-bag, gestured for Severus

to climb out, and paid the driver.

SSSSSSS

Severus stepped gingerly out onto the snowy ground, wondering how in Merlin's name Muriel wasn't skidding on the ice. He examined his new surroundings, trying to

collect his bearings, so to say. Earrach was a cozy-looking little village that you would expect to see on a Christmas card somewhere in a "mom n' pop" general store.

Tidy cottages lined a dusty, now snowy, path and eventually circled around the center of the town. Each cottage had a similar design, with the traditional English style and

front garden with a fence of some sort to keep out the gnomes. In the center of the town was a stage, now covered in a protective tarp, where matinees, side shows, and

folk dances would be held in fairer weather. Along the path were traces of old flowerbeds, rope fences, and a few tin cans kicked around by feet and wind. Muriel tugged

on Severus's arm eagerly, leading him into the town. As they shuffled along the ice, a wise church bell rang in the belfry of St. Alpin's, welcoming Muriel home.

SSSSSSS

Muriel pointed out things here and there as they made their way to her house. "There's Mrs. Ainslie's schoolhouse over there, that's where most of the young kids attend

class. The lot of them are just itching to come to Hogwarts, but I agree with Mrs. Ainslie. Got to teach them how to count to ten before you can teach then Ancient Runes!

That's St. Alpin's, the church, and over there is Baillie's playhouse. That's where I used to rehearse for the plays, though once in a while they'll show a Muggle flick or two."

Severus let her chatter as they strolled through the town. He looked around. Everyone seemed to be clad in the traditional garb as Muriel was, and everyone seemed to

know each other. Some where leading carts with oxen, others toting goods to the market, mothers ushered their children along the roads like sheep or were calling their

husbands inside for lunch. Voices of men laughing bellowed out of a nearby tavern, the smell of Scotch and crusty bread soaked in sop gravy carrying on the crisp

breeze from that direction. The townsfolk stopped for a moment to greet Muriel, either coming up to her or waving with a cheery smile that was rather infectious.

Finally, they reached a proper little cottage on the edge of town. The walls were a plain beige, and the roof was of a traditional straw thatch, though durable to keep out

the weather's worst. Ivory clung to the walls, and the evidence of an extensive garden sang from the yard, a simple white picket fence and arch gate surrounding the

busy yard. An oak door with a wreath someone had attached to it gave off a homey presence, as if to say "Come on in!" Smoke curled from a stone chimney, light in the

window pane shining from a fire behind the lacy curtains. Muriel turned to Severus. "Well, this is it." She suddenly frowned at Severus. "Oh dear, you should have dressed

warmer! We better get inside before you catch your death!" Severus looked down at his clothes. He was wearing his normal black robes, only this time with a wool frock

coat. Muriel pulled a copper key out of her pocket, opened the door, and swung it open. They both took a step inside, and a great mass seized Muriel, her startling Severus

as she gave a shout. "Ah, get off me, you lot! Bunch of dogs, ya are!" she shouted playfully. Her brothers tossed her about in a type of fist-fight, throwing punches at

each other as they wrestled themselves to the ground in a dog-pile. Muriel threw an uppercut at a sandy-haired man with a twinkle in his eye, tussled his hair, and

straightened herself out, turning to Severus. "Well, darlin', this pile of ruddy rascal dogs are my brothers." She turned to them and said mock-snappishly, "Well, introduce

yourselves! Show a bit of culture to the man, if ya have any!" The men laughed, took off their hats, and saluted their sister. They went down the line. A fiery-looking

red-head came first. "I'm the eldest, Archibald Bernadette Jr. Nice to meetcha!" The sandy haired man raised an eyebrow at Severus, "Darlin? Well, boys, we better keep

an eye on this one!" He wagged a finger at Severus. "Better keep out of our sister's skirt, ya here? The name is Seamus." From Seamus came Adair, Cameron, Donnan,

Douglas, Eachann, Gregor, Owen, Stuart, William, and Raibert. They all greeted Severus warmly, but they all seemed to give Severus the same warning as Seamus.

Muriel whispered to Severus loudly enough for them to hear her. "Ignore them. They're about as vigilant as Old Man McGregory on St. Patty's Day after throwing back one

to many pints with the barmaid!" Archibald cut in, a devilish grin on his face, "Besides, if ya do decide to play around with our little Murrey, you're gonna have to go through

Mum!" The twelve men and Muriel laughed, picturing their mother giving Severus her classic once-over. Muriel put an arm around Severus's waist. "You can relax, you lot.

Though you buncha no good skirt-chasers don't have much of a place to be preaching!" She turned to Severus with a wink, "Let's get ya settled in. You can meet the

Scottish Storm, ahem, I mean _Mum, _later!" She led him down a hallway to his bedroom, but, all the while, St. Alpin's bells were ringing, singing of a day unknown.


	10. Chapter 10 The Drawer

Another day, another chapter. You guys know the drill! :)

SSSSSSS

Muriel led Severus down a small hallway and into his bedroom. It had a homey and cared for feel, with cream walls and a swept hard wood floor. In one corner of the room

was a twin-size bed with crisp linen sheets, a cozy tartan blanket on top, and squashy pillows resting against a carved oak headboard. Sunlight streamed from the wide bay

windows and from behind white lace curtains. A flower box, now filled with snow, could be seen just outside the window, which overlooked the garden. In the far corner of the

room was a simple chestnut desk and chair with a tidy stack of parchment and a pigeon feather quill waiting patiently. Next to the desk was an orderly bookshelf with a few

novels, a dictionary, and another stack of parchment. A chest of drawers with a mirror, a wash basin, and pitcher stood humbly on the other side of the window, placed right

in the blind spot of the room. Near the window seat was a round side table with a vase of lilacs, roses, sunflowers, and daffodils, giving the room a cheery air and a light

perfume. Muriel turned to him and shrugged apologetically. "I know it's not your style, but I don't have much." A sly smile tugged on the edge of her lips. "Besides, I didn't

think you wanted to share _my _bedroom." Snape was internally appalled by the femininity of the bedroom, but instead said curtly, "It's fine. Thank you." She nodded and

turned. "Well, I'm going to go wash up a bit. The loo is down the hall to the left, and the kitchen is one door down. If you need me, my room is at the end of the hall on the

right. The parlor is to the left of where we came in." With another shake of her head, she slipped into her bedroom and shut the door with a 'click.' Snape closed the door and

unpacked his satchel, hanging his coat in a closet that was off in a corner. As he unpacked, he was thinking. "_I wouldn't think of a rural woman like Muriel to have a home _

_that's so nauseously __feminine. After meeting her relatives, I would not be surprised in the least to discover that the entire family is a band of rowdy drunks." _He scowled to

himself as he folded a cloak, thinking once more of Muriel's brothers. "_The sheer audacity is breathtaking, really! And that dunderhead, Seamus. I thought I had left the _

_vulgarity to the students. __"Better keep out of our sister's skirt." Indeed!" _The anger in his mind once again drifted to Muriel, which calmed the waters of his internal storm.

"_Merlin, bless her. I suppose __intelligence can be found in any family." _

SSSSSSSS

The popular topic of Severus's mind was currently sitting on an ottoman in front of the boudoir her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, attempting to brush her

hair. Her bedroom was quite similar to Severus's, only the bed had a white frame rather than an oak, and the bookshelf was stuffed to the gills with thick tomes of any

writer you could think of off the top of your head. She stared into the mirror and sighed. Muriel had never really cared about her appearance, except when she was in

costume for a role. Being the oldest girl of the family, she had spent most of her life playing rugby, wrestling, fist-fighting, and throwing back pints with her brothers. In yet,

she struggled to bring some type of order to her wild auburn curls. The split ends simply frizzed up, and she dropped the brush in defeat and sighed once more. Her thoughts

drifted to the man at the other end of the hall. "_I wonder if he noticed that I'm wearing perfume..." _Oddly enough, she was. Although, it wasn't a very feminine scent. It was

light, yet it smelled of musk, ginger, and hickory. She rolled her eyes at herself. "_Ugh, I'm being pathetic." _Her eyes wandered around the room until they settled upon the

drawer in front of her.

She wouldn't open it.

She wouldn't open it.

She _wouldn't_ open it!

Muriel sighed heavily, pulled a brass key out of another drawer, and opened the other with a rusty-sounding 'click.' Tentatively, she pulled it open. She hadn't opened this

drawer since she was 13 years old, even after she moved into her cottage. Her eyes flitted over the foreign objects that her mother had insisted on presenting her with.

It was full of tubes of makeup, a powder puff, kohl, hair ribbons, and bottles of, in her opinion, nauseatingly flowery perfume. She frowned, but she picked up a bullet of

lipstick and stared at it contemplatively. While protesting against herself with every fiber of her being, she put it to her lips. Her lips were soon, though rather sloppily,

painted blood red. Muriel frowned at herself and sighed sadly. "_What are you doing to me, Severus?"_

SSSSSSS

It was close to 6 O'clock when Severus heard a soft knock on his door. He stood up from the rocking chair and marked his place in his book. "Yes?" The door creaked open,

and he had to blink twice to believe his eyes. "Muriel?" There she stood, yet he couldn't be sure it was her. Her hair was done up into a bun with a blue hair ribbon, and

her face was covered, with much trial and error, with makeup. He stared at her curiously, waiting for her to speak. Muriel cleared her throat and shuffled her feet

uncomfortably. "We should be heading out to see Mum and the others soon." Severus nodded. "Very well then." Before he could turn, he felt a hand on his elbow. "Severus?"

He turned to face her. She was gazing at him with a bit of out of character nervousness. "Yes?" he replied. Muriel cleared her throat again. "D-do you like me better this

way? Like this?" She pointed to the makeup on her face. Severus raised an eyebrow and curtly replied, "No." As she turned to leave, he grabbed her shoulder. "Do you know

how I like you?" She peered over her shoulder curiously and shook her head. Severus walked over to the wash basin, rung out a towel full of water, and wiped off the

makeup. It was her turn to look dumbstruck as he turned her around, and untied the hair-ribbon, letting the still-unkempt curls fall. He turned her around again and smirked.

"Beautiful."


	11. Chapter 11 Meeting the Family

Thanks, as always. A special thanks to my muse, Jelly, for helping me feed the plot bunnies! On with the story, and please leave a review. Danke! - Manu

SSSSSSS

Muriel smiled, though shocked, at Severus. She really couldn't think of what to say, but somehow her hand made its way to his cheek. She stroked it fondly for a moment,

then said simply, "Thank you." As she left the room, a wistful look came to her eyes, contemplating a world beyond what she could see.

SSSSSS

Severus stood stock-still, like the bottom of his shoes were nailed to the floor. What had made him say _that_? A tentative hand felt the place where she had touched him.

Somehow, it felt different from her usual wanton signs of affection. He was used to her touching him, but not this way. It felt... strange. "_Though," _he noted, "_not _

_unpleasant."_

Just, somehow.

SSSSSSS

It was 6:30 when they finally left the house. Muriel had changed out of her heavy tartan dress, and into her trusty bodice and Wellies, with an Inverness cape for warmth

against the frosty temperatures. The stars twinkled in the heavens against an inky sky, the crescent moon perfectly silhouetted amongst the celestial bodies of the night.

Cheery lights from the front yards cast their golden rays upon the snowy ground, lighting the way to Muriel's parents' home. Though, as they walked, she was rather busy

with the rather hilarious spectacle that was walking next to her. Severus Snape, probably the most serious and elegant person she knew, was stumbling and sliding on the

icy ground, trying desperately not to fall. Snape silently cursed the cold, ice, and snow. Suddenly, he fell flat onto the ice with a sharp 'CRUNCH!' "_Damn it!" _he thought,

annoyed and slightly embarrassed. Muriel shook her head. "_Honestly, I did warn him about his clothes earlier. He needs a proper pair of shoes!" _She stooped down next to

him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and pulled him up. "You alright, dear?" He pulled away from her snappishly. "Let go of me!" She just rolled her eyes again and

huffed, "Geeze, you're welcome!" He kept slipping, though a might bit more careful now. After 10 minutes of watching him shuffle on the ice, Muriel wrapped an arm around

his waist and lead him along. She noticed his disapproving frown. "Oh please, don't act like you don't need help! You're about as graceful on ice as Owen trying to dance

after doing a keg stand!" Snape tried to remove himself from her grip. "I'm perfectly capable of walking without assistance." Muriel raised an eyebrow. "I beg to differ."

SSSSSSS

They walked on until they reached a cottage on the other end of the village. It was similar to Muriel's cottage, only instead of a garden, there was a yard with a chicken,

two goats, and a dog. The dog was a large, strong, and short-haired St. Bernard, about as big as a barrel. It perked up its ears as Muriel swung open the garden gate, and

lunged itself at her, giving a joyful bark. Muriel laughed as it pinned her against the ground and tried to lick her ears. "Ah, down, Angus, down, you rascal!" She tussled the

fur on the scruff of his neck, and he bounced off of her, eyeing Severus with caution. Muriel pat Angus on the head. "Don't worry, Angus. Severus is a friend!" Angus seemed

to sense that Muriel was friends with this stranger, and then sniffed his hand curiously. Severus rolled his eyes and sneered, "My, my, 14 children and a dog. Your family has

outdone the Weasleys." Muriel ignored him and peered around until she spotted a form in the distance. "Ah, there it is!" she cried gleefully. An old gypsy cart was parked

in an alleyway near the cottage. She grinned and turned to Severus. "My sister works in Potions as well, a Healer. She bought that old cart off of some old codger in

Romania." She shivered as a cold wind whipped across the ground. "Well, c'mon, boy!" Angus went to follow her, but Muriel laughed and peered behind her shoulder. "Well,

are you coming or not, Severus?" Snape scowled as Muriel swung open the door. Out into the cold and dark came a huge burst of light, warmth, and the savory aroma of

sop gravy, biscuits, gin, and collops. She tugged on Severus's hand and led him through the door, closing it with a thump. Inside, they were greeted with the sound of

roaring, from-the-belly laughter. Muriel's brothers, a man whom Severus assumed was her father, a woman, and a child sat bellowing gaily around a large, crackling

fireplace, tankards of gin in hand, sitting on wooden stools. Seamus was cooking a sausage on a toasting fork, a cigar hanging out of his mouth, as he turned his head

towards the door. "Murry! 'Bout time you got here!" All of her brothers tackled her in a similar way as when she first arrived. Adair knocked out Gregor's tooth, while Muriel

gave Stuart a kick in the leg. Owen black-eyed Raibert, while Douglas and Donnan wrestled each other to the ground. Severus watched from the doorway as a great

wrestling, dog-fight formed right before his eyes. It was quite the spectacle, Muriel fighting and laughing with her brothers as they knocked each other's brains out. "Alright,

settle down, you lot!" came a voice from the corner. Muriel, out of habit, straightened out her skirts and turned to the source of the voice. "Dad!" A tall, burly man

with a landscape of chestnut hair embraced his eldest daughter. He had watery hazel eyes, a stubby reddish-brown beard, and a cheerful smile. He was clad in a stained

white work-shirt, black trousers with suspenders, and Wellington boots. "Ello, dearie! Good to see ya! I 'ope that 'ogwarts is treatin' ya well." Muriel grinned at her father and

nodded. "Sure has, Dad. I love it there. I missed you all, though!" The two separated, and Archibald Sr. peered down his nose through horn-rimmed spectacles at Severus.

"Well, who would this lad be?" he inquired curiously to his daughter, gesturing to Severus. Muriel walked to Severus's side. "This is my colleague, Professor Severus Snape.

He teaches Potions." Snape extended a hand to Muriel's father and tried, for the moment, to be polite. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bernadette." Archibald ran his

fingers through his beard for a moment, taking in Severus's appearance. He smiled and took his hand. "Nice to meet 'cha, Snape. Please, call me Archibald. Mr. Bernadette

is Muriel's grandpap!" The two shook hands, and Archibald muttered something near Muriel's ear. "A bit skinny, but nice choice, dear. We need some brains in the male side

of the family!" Muriel covered her mouth with her hand to stifle laughter as her brothers scowled. Suddenly, the other woman in the room, who had been dozing a bit by

the fire, stirred and sat up. "Murry!" she cried happily, embracing Muriel. Muriel grinned madly, "'Bout time you woke up, sis!" She peered down at a little girl standing

beside Alana with a wink. "You too, Sophia!" Alana was the only one with black hair in the family, her and Sophia. It was long, tied into a braid hanging down her back, a

few strands sticking up here and there under a pair of brass aviator goggles that sat on top of her head. She had dark brown eyes, nearly black, but not quite, that seemed

to gleam with deviance and inquiry. She wore a long, slightly faded white lab coat, black slacks, leather gloves, and Russian army boots. Sophia was like a miniature,

clutching her mother's briefcase in her 5 year-old fist. She smiled. "Hiya, Auntie Murry!" Alana glanced at Severus with the same curiosity as the rest of them. She nudged

Muriel. "Who's your friend?" A cross of dawning realization came of Muriel's face, and she smirked like a madwoman. "Oh, you know who this is, Alana! Who's your favorite

editorial writer for _Potions Monthly?" _Alana's face lit up. "Are you Professor Severus Snape, by any chance?" she asked anxiously. Snape raised an eyebrow, looked at both

of them, and nodded. "Indeed." Muriel plugged her ears to ready for the tirade of fandom. "Give me strength!" Alana extended a hand excitedly. "It's an honor to meet you,

sir! I've been reading your work for years. I must say, your research on the Wolfsbane Potion is outstandingly impressive!" Snape had a tone of appreciation in his voice.

"Thank you. It's not often people understand my research, let alone understand it. You work in the Potions, I am told?" She nodded, "I'm a Healer at the local hospital, a

few miles away. I envy you. It's hard to conduct experiments out in the moors!" She pat Sophia on the head. "This one here wants to go into the field when she grows up.

Helps me brew and collect herbs, she does." The two chatted about potions and the latest theories, Muriel commenting, until they heard a sharp yell. "You been hiding from

me, Muriel?" Muriel turned to the source of the voice sheepishly. "Um, no, Mother." Snape examined the woman. She had a very Molly Weasley-esque air about her, only

rougher. She had the same fiery auburn hair as Muriel, sharp Lincoln green eyes, and a chubby form. She was clad in a floral orange housecoat, a spotted white pinafore

apron, and, of course, Wellington boots. A dish rag was stuffed in the pocket of her apron, and she held a wooden spoon rather threateningly near her hip, though she was

rather short. Her sharp eyes looked Severus up, down, side to side, down, up, down, then up once more. She folded her arms. "Muriel, who's the stiff?" Her brothers laughed

as Severus's wand arm twitched, and Muriel sighed. "Mother, this is my colleague, Professor Severus Snape." Snape, though quite grudgingly, extended a hand to the

woman. "Nice to meet you, Madam." Shona ignored Snape's hand and did her once-over again. "Augh, Muriel! You finally bring home a man, and he's an English, string-

bean, greasy undertaker with jaundice! And he's too skinny! He's a bloody skeleton!" Muriel's brothers roared with laughter, while Mr. Bernadette and Alana groaned. Muriel

blushed and put a hand on Severus's wand arm to calm him down. "Mother, please!" Shona met her daughter's eyes and saw the pleading. She put a hand to her forehead

and sighed deeply. She knew what that look meant. Every woman knew what that look meant. Shona had used the same look when she introduced Archibald to her parents!

She finally took Severus's hand and shook it. "Same to you, skinny...err, I mean Severus." Muriel suddenly grasped Severus's arm. He took his glare away from her brothers

and peered down at her. "What is it?" She tugged on his arm. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Outside?" He nodded. "Fine." "_Anything to get away from this madhouse!"_

Muriel gazed at her parents briefly with a shrug. "Hogwarts business. Dumbledore needed me to tell him something, and I just remembered." Archibald acknowledged her.

"Of course!" Shona and Alana rolled their eyes at Archibald's naivety. She led Severus out the door, and closed it with a soft 'thump.' Severus glared at the door. "Muriel,

your mother is horrid." Muriel sighed and almost laughed. "I know, but I warned you!" She leaned against the cold stone of the wall. "I'm sorry, Severus. My mother is

insane." This time, she laughed, "Hell, we're all insane!" Snape shook his head. "Oh, how your powers of perceiving the obvious amaze me." She smacked his arm playfully.

"Ah, shut it, string-bean!" He smirked briefly, then frowned at a bruise on her arm. "Do you and your family always fight like this?" She grinned. "All the time. It's best

when we get Seamus good and drunk. He's a madman, but we can all take him down." She brushed a piece of hair from his face. "It's just in our blood." She held up 4

fingers. "There are only 4 things you need to know about this family." She put one finger down as she listed them. "We fight, drink, swear, and dance. That's what you need

to be a Bernadette!" He shook his head once more. "Classy" he said. Muriel rolled her eyes again. "Better get a mop to clean up that dripping sarcasm. Mum doesn't like

stains on the carpet!" The corners of his mouth twitched for a second as she laughed. "If you keep rolling your eyes, you'll go cross-eyed." She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't

know you paid such attention to my eyes" she teased. Snape didn't reply, but both only sighed. She laid her head on his chest. "Don't worry, they'll all warm up to you

eventually." Severus looked down at her as if he were a child at a zoo looking at a particularly exotic creature. He smirked, "You certainly have, _Murry._" She stood up

straight and glared at him. "Haha, hilarious, _Sevvy_." He returned the glare and wrinkled his nose at the Merlin-awful nickname. She folded her arms. "Yeah, I can play that

game too, Sevvy." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but the game has only begun, Muriel."


	12. Chapter 12 In the Garden

Ah, thank you all who reviewed in the last chapter! Much appreciated! Sorry about these late updates. My school is having standardized testing, which means a lot of homework! Well, thank goodness for the weekend. ;) Anyway, here's the next chapter, and please keep the reviews coming. Danke!

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The cold eventually won, and Muriel and Severus went back inside grudgingly. Alana peered at the pair over the rim of her tankard of gin and raised a suspicious eyebrow as

Muriel sat in the chair next to her. "Been busy, Murry?" she muttered with a devilish grin. Muriel folded her arms tightly over her chest and rolled her eyes. "Ah, bugger off.

You're worse than Archibald and Seamus!" Alana smirked and punched her playfully in the shoulder. "Now don't get snippy, sis!" Her eyes absorbed her sister's appearance,

trying to guess what she was thinking by her body language. Her eyes lingered on the inside flap of her cloak. She pointed curiously at it. "What have you got there, Muriel?"

Muriel looked where she was pointing and quickly shut her cloak with one swift movement of her arm. "Nothing. Nothing at all" she said firmly. Alana's suspicious, yet

amused, smirk and eyebrow came upon her face as she ripped open the flap of her sister's cloak wide enough to peak at the foreign object. The eyebrow soared to her

hairline. "Is that a rose I see, Murry?" Indeed, it was a rose, a preserved rose with a black velvet bow, secured on the inside of her cloak with a gold pin. Muriel blushed and

shut her cloak irritably. Alana frowned and crossed her arms. They were far away enough from the others, and it was definitely loud enough, that no one could hear them

talking. "Okay, Muriel, spill. I know you pretty damn well, and I know something's up. C'mon, sis, let me help, or at least listen. You're not acting like yourself, and even the

males in this family, as thick as butter as they are, will catch on." Muriel sighed heavily. "Fine, but can we talk somewhere else? This lot," she gestured to her brothers, "will

never let me live it down." Alana nodded and scooted out of her chair, setting her gin on a side table. Sophia was playing with Owen and Stuart, so she didn't have to worry

about her for now. The two women slipped into the garden, and sat down on a bench. Alana cast a Heating Charm, so Muriel wouldn't have an excuse to leave. "Alright, I'm

all ears." Muriel flattened out her skirt in her lap, sighed, and began slowly. "It started a few days after I came to Hogwarts..."

SSSSSSS

Severus had been stuck in the middle of a rather dull conversation about Quidditch with the twins of the family, Donnan and Douglas. The two just kept rambling on and on

about the Wimbourne Wasps, and the chances of the Chudley Cannons beating the Transylvanians in the next match. While the two carried on a hot debate, Severus noticed

two figures in the corner of his eye slipping out the back door. He turned and caught a glimpse of light reflecting off of Alana's goggles. Fueled by curiosity and boredom,

he followed the two women into the garden, hiding behind a corner near them, listening.

SSSSSSS

Alana was listening intently as Muriel talked. "It just started out as a spot of fun. I just wanted to see what he would do." Alana snorted. "_Wow_, what a shocker!" Muriel

nearly smiled and kept talking, "But then...well, things started to change. And on the night of the ball, it was amazing." She smiled as she leaned her cheek into her hand,

her elbow residing on her left knee. She closed her eyes. "That night, he became my Phantom. I felt as though I would never feel again." Muriel snorted at herself. "It sounds

pathetic and teenager-ish, but Alana, I-I think...no, I _know_ that I love him." There was a long silence between them as Alana gazed at her older sister with a touch of pity.

_"Those hazel eyes had never looked so sad" _she thought with a shake of her head. Suddenly, Muriel sat up and opened her cloak, pointing to the rose. "He gave me this at

the Ball." She gazed at it fondly. "It's silly, but I always keep it with me." Alana crossed her arms and shook her head with amazement. "The day you turn into a hopeless

romantic is the day the world blows up." She stuck her fingers in her ears. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Muriel laughed as Alana hit the dirt in an fox-hole position, counting down

from 60.

SSSSSSS

Severus stood as quietly and still as a gravestone in an abandoned churchyard. The words just echoed in his mind. "_I love him." _He didn't know what to do, or how to feel.

He just stood there, numbly staring at Muriel's cloak. The pin glinted in the moonlight, as if winking at him. "_She doesn't go anywhere without it." _The thought, if he had

felt normal and didn't feel as though his chest was going to explode, would have struck him as odd. After about 10 minutes, he finally regained blood flow in his legs. Severus

swung open the garden gate and fled into the town. He didn't know where he was going, but his heart was in his mouth.

And he certainly didn't want anything to spill.

SSSSSSS

Ah, that's what I have for you all tonight. Reviews, comments, etc? Just no flames, please!


	13. Chapter 13 Love is a Song

Thanks as always to my kind readers for the reviews! :) Also, check out the Sophia's Choice saga (by Jellybeanlover2010) (Sophia's Choice and Sophia's Choice Part II, Shadows of Extinction) for some thumping good reads. Disclaimer: I do not own anything from "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" or "Les Miserables." All rights go to their respective owners, none of which are me. This is made solely for the love of Harry Potter, which I also do not own.

Danke! -Manu

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As Muriel had turned to leave the garden, a flutter of movement swept in and out of the corner of her eye. She turned around swiftly to see a billowing figure fleeing into the

twilight. There was no use guessing or assuming. She _knew_ who it was that fled from the garden like the hounds of Hell were at his heels. Tears clouded her vision as she

whispered into the merciless silence. "_Severus."_ Her cheeks flushed like burning coals, and her heart seemed to be replaced with the gaping maw of sorrow as she too ran

into the icy clutches of the darkness.

SSSSSS

Even in her blind run, she knew where she was going, Baillie's playhouse. She slowed into a trudge and knocked on the backdoor of the grubby-looking brick building.

"Donny, Donny, are you there?" The door swung open to reveal a wizened old man, clutching a lantern in his fist, illuminating Muriel's face. He had fly-away white hair poking

up untidily from underneath a tweed jaunty cap. His face was a wrinkled blanket of age, though their seemed to be a certain wisdom that smelled of gin and mothballs that

surrounded him. He was clad in a plaid work-shirt, a weathered black velveteen jacket with tarnished silver buttons with a few missing, black trousers, and scuffed boots.

Donny gave Muriel a friendly, yet nearly toothless grin. "Ah, Muriel, my dear! It's lovely to see ya, dearie, but what are you doing out here on such a blasted night?" "May I

come inside?" she asked softly. Donny McGregory stepped aside to let her in. "Of course, my dear. I was just locking up, but you know how this place

works!" A sentimentality came into his watery grey eyes as her hair shone in the flickering light. "Out of me years as bein' caretaker of this place, we've never had one as

good as you, Murry." She smiled at her old friend. "And we've never had a better caretaker, Donny. Have a goodnight, and mind yourself on the ice." He tipped his hat to her

as he looped his ring of keys into his tool-belt and pushed open the door with a gnarled shillelagh. "Same to you, lassie. Goodnight!" With that, the old man left into the night

for the tavern, leaving Muriel alone. She sighed and breathed in the musty air. It was familiar and comforting to her as she strolled onto the wide stage and gazed into

the inner theater. As grubby as it looked on the outside, Baillie's Playhouse was richly decorated and impressive on the inside. Row after row of plush red seats that carried

the ghosts of applause and cheers stared back at her. The stage, thanks to Donny, was immaculately polished, her reflection sadly following her. The lights, the sound of

her footsteps, the tension in the air, even the smell, carried the ghosts of her dearly departed past. She sat down in the middle of the stage, trying to calm the storm inside

her heart.

SSSSSSS

Severus kept running.

Words, mere words, had reduced him to nothing more than a mass of billowing darkness sprinting across the glass of the ice, not caring whether he fell or not. Yet, the cold

ripped into his lungs, and exhaustion soon overcame his instincts. He at last came to a stop in front of St. Alpin's church. A numbing cold chilled him to the bone, and he

sought refuge inside. The candles were dim, and the sickly, yet comforting, aroma of incense loomed over the pulpit. The statues of saints seemed to follow him as he

wandered aimlessly about the church, finally scaling a flight of steps to where he knew not. Severus soon came upon the belfry, a quiet tower that overlooked the town,

whispering with the sound of the wind. He at last collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall, his knees hugged to his chest. The night had become clear, and the

moonlight shone upon the belfry with a motherly protectiveness. He didn't know what to feel. All he could muster was fatigue, confusion, and being bitterly cold. Severus

squeezed his eyes shut to block out the world, even for a few moments, to be alone with his thoughts, yet the moonlight kept persisting. He could have closed his eyes

so tight that he could never see again, but Muriel swam before him. The memories of her laughter rang in his ears as honey-sweet music. All around him, the thoughts of

her, came as music, and the music soon became a song on his lips as gazed down upon the street. "_So many times out there, I've watched a happy pair of lovers walking_

_in the night. They had a kind of glow around them. It almost looked like Heaven's light." _He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself. "_I knew I'd never know, that warm_

_and loving glow, though I might wish with all my might." _A hand traced along the features of his face, one that he had been mocked about for years, friends and foes.

"_No face as hideous as my face, was ever meant for Heaven's light!" _He closed his eyes, and Muriel was there. He thought of the soft look in her eyes, how she had never

judged him, despite his temper or personality. He allowed himself to smile, if only for a second. "_But suddenly, an angel has smiled upon me, and kissed my cheek without a _

_trace __of fright." _Severus felt a stirring in his chest, one that he could not ignore, not this time. "_I dare to dream that she might even care for me, and as I ring these bells_

_tonight, my cold dark tower seems so bright! I swear it must be Heaven's light!" _The bells behind him began to sing as he ran out of the belfry. His heart pounded with a new

vigor as he ran back to her, back to his Muriel. He felt 20 years younger as he slid across the ice and dodged passerby. The bells of St. Alpin's sang with gusto, cheering

him on. "_I have to tell her!" _

SSSSSSS

He burst into the garden gate, only to find Alana with Angus, who was snuffling around the hibernating flowerbeds, looking about, as if searching for someone. Severus was

breathless as he went up to Alana. "Where's Muriel?" he asked anxiously, not wanting this newfound courage to run out. Alana raised an eyebrow and looked him up and

down until she met his eyes. He hadn't bothered to regain his composure when the left the belfry. His eyes told all she needed to know. She pointed East. "To Baillie's

playhouse." Severus leaped over the garden wall and ran off in the direction she had pointed to without another word. Alana grinned and yelled after him. "Go get her,

lover boy!"

SSSSSS

Muriel stared out into the crowd. She needed to vent, any longer, and she would explode. It was different when she sang, here in the playhouse. It was different then when

she sang with her friends in any tavern. No, here she lost all trace of her accent. Here, she became her role, whatever it may be. She became the manifest, the essence of

her character, her soul woven into the tapestry of the tales of the theatre. She needed to vent. The orchestra pit revved up, magically charmed to play the songs of the

actors. This, this was her passion. The music were raindrops upon the stones of her voice, ringing clear as creation. "_On my own, pretending he's beside me. All alone, I_

_walk with him till morning. Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way, I close my eyes, and he has found me." _She closed her eyes, letting her

thoughts wander back to the night of the Ball, his kiss fresh on her lips. "_In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river. In the darkness,_

_the trees are full of starlight, and all I see is him and me forever and forever!" _Her eyes opened, the tears flowing fully now, yet her voice did not waver. The passion

erupted from her throat, echoing through the hall like a hurricane of music. "_And I know, it's only in my mind. That I'm talking to myself, and not to him. And although, _

_I know that he is blind, still I say, there's a way for us." _To the nonexistent crowd, she boldly proclaimed, "_I love him! But when the night is over, he's gone! The river's_

_just a river. Without him, the world around me changes, the trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers!" _With a maddening swivet of love, she cried,

"_I LOVE HIM! But everyday, I'm learning all my life, I've only been pretending! Without me, his world will go on turning, a world that's full of happiness, that I have never_

_known!" _She fell to her knees, the tears pouring as she gasped out the last verses, her eyes in her hands. "_I love him. I love him. I love him, but only on my own!" _

The music died as the last traces of her voice floated into the rafters to freedom from this Earth. She wiped her tears and stood defiantly against the shining lights, her

sadness now a manifesto of anger and hopelessness. One more song before she left this damned playhouse to face her sister, to face her brothers, to face the pitying eyes

of her father, and the sneering, twisted lips of her mother. Her fists clenched, but her breath was calm. Muriel began, never holding back.

"_I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die! I dreamed that God would be forgiving. Then I was_

_young and unafraid, and dreams were made and used and wasted. There was no ransom to be paid, no song unsung, no wine untasted." _Her fists clenched white hot

before she threw up her arms, as if embracing the lights and cursing them as well, her eyes full of love, hatred, war, and peace. "_But the tigers come at night! With their_

_voices soft as thunder! As they tear your hope apart, as they turn your dream to shame!" _The cymbals crashed as thunder as the drums roared as the tigers as she

mustered all of her strength and passion, her thoughts running to the barricades of Freedom that she had sung so often about. "_He slept a summer by my side. He filled my_

_days with endless wonder. He took my childhood in his stride, but he was gone when Autumn came! And still I dream he'll come to me! That we will live the years together,_

_but there are dreams that cannot be! And there are storms we cannot weather!" _The notes tore through her as the torrents came, the last of her anger and bitterness

crashing into the drums. "_I had a dream that life would be so different than this Hell I'm living, so different from what it seemed, but Life has killed the dream I dream!" _

At last the notes died, she did not fall with them.


	14. Chapter 14 Backstage

Thank you all for your reviews, much appreciated, especially a rather informative and helpful review from a certain guest. *cough*sirolives*cough* On with the chapter! As always, comments, questions, advice, etc. are encouraged, and my apologies for not mentioning this earlier. Yes, this fic is slightly AU. Silly me. I apologize for any confusion. Now enough of my blabbering! On with the show!

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Muriel perched herself on an old crate near the edge of the stage, staring up at the lights. She didn't feel sad, not anymore. Everyone needed to vent once in a while. She

snorted. "_Ah, Muriel! Why so dramatic?" _ She reached deep down into her pocket and pulled out a small leather flask. She uncorked the top and inhaled the familiar, robust

smell. "_Mead" _she thought with a smile. It was the kind her father made himself. Muriel contemplated the bottle. "_Just half a sip ought to do it." _She brought the flask to her

lips and took the smallest sip possible, just enough for the honey taste to run down her tongue. She grinned, corked it, and tucked it away again. Her gaze was on the rose

again, pinned obediently inside her cloak. A finger ran over one of the petals, preserved, yet soft. All she could do was stare at it for a moment, before shutting her cloak with

one flourish of her arm. Muriel laughed and to no one in particular, "Well, Erik, when you decide to come out of the mirror, I'll be waiting!" Her thoughts were interrupted by

the sound of rapid footsteps outside and a click from the door. She drew her wand and went backstage.

SSSSSSS

"_Alohomora" _he whispered.

Severus swung open the door, looking about anxiously. He sighed in relief as he saw the lanterns lit above the stage, a familiar shadow flickering upon the wall. He brushed

the snow off of his cloak and walked gingerly between the crates backstage. Suddenly, he bumped into something and fell backwards. "Oh!" The figure looked down at him

and raised its wand. "_Lumos!" _Severus rubbed his head and opened his eyes to face the figure. "Severus? Are you alright?" she said tentatively. "Muriel!" he cried, steadying

himself and standing up with one fluid movement. He gazed at her in the dim wand-light, trying to read her face. Everything appeared as usual, the mischievous and lively

gleam in her eye, but she appeared a tad tired. She folded her arms. "So, Forest, what made you run home?" Severus took her hand. "I had someone to run home to."

Muriel rolled her eyes and smiled. "That's so sweet...and corny." He snorted. "I'm a Potions professor, not a romance novelist. Sweet nothings are not exactly in the vast

repertoire of my vocabulary, thank you very much." She gazed at him, then did a once-over quite similar to that of her mother's. "Unless you have a new exercise regime I

don't know about, I'd be happy to have an explanation, if you please." He swallowed and nodded, squeezing her hands in his own. "Muriel, please forgive me for my

foolishness. I was caught off guard. I do care about you, more you than you could imagine." She brushed a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes. He somehow could

always disarm her this way. "Don't apologize, darling. I overreacted." Muriel kissed him softly on the cheek. "Although, you'll always be my Phantom." She added, poking his

nose, "Though if you ever pull that load of tosh again, I'll cut off your lucky charms with a pen knife!" The corners of his mouth twitched, and he cringed slightly. "That, my

darling Christine, I have no doubt of." They walked out together, the air about them a bit lighter. Though Muriel could have sworn she had heard him mutter, "Though I'd

rather play Raoul."

SSSSSSS

Muriel kept frowning at Severus while they walked to the pub. Alana and the others had moved the gathering there, as it was a family custom to go for a drink after the work

day. "You're going to catch your Death if you don't learn how to dress yourself!" she chided him for the Merlin-only-knows-how-many-times tonight. Severus groaned.

"I assure you, I am perfectly capable of deeming what I wear suitable or unsuitable." Muriel gave him a rather motherly glare. "Hmph." They finally found their way to a

shabby, yet inviting wooden building that smelled of ale and sop gravy. She put a hand on his hip, a sudden seriousness in her eyes. "Dear, please be careful in here. The

folks in this town are friendly as could be, but a lot of them tend to be a bit, oh sod it, they're as loopy as mental patients that broke into Dumbledore's lemon drop stash!

Of course, I'll warn you, my brothers will try there best to give you an initiation." Severus raised an eyebrow. "Initiation?" Muriel grinned devilishly and swung open the door

without another word.


	15. Chapter 15 A Twit and a Tavern

As always, thank you all for reviewing. (If you keep doing so, you have my gratitude.) Ah well, you guys know the drill by now. Enjoy the story!

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Muriel and Severus squeezed their way into the crowded room. The tavern was a high-ceilinged building with long rafters, rickety wooden tables, and chairs and stools thrown

haphazardly around the room. A polished bar counter was occupied by a brood of men, wizened with age, hotly debating on politics, Quidditch, and the like over copious

amounts of alcohol and sandwiches. In the far corner sat a flock of middle-aged spinsters and barmaids gossiping like scandalous school girls, giggling over their watered-

down tankards of gin. A slack-jawed pan-pipe player with a mug of brandy and a fiddler with the air of a Shakespearian aristocrat with a cup of tea sat quietly near the center

of the room, waiting for song requests and spare change to be dropped into a torn beaver bowler hat near their feet. The whole room was bright and warm, the golden flames

of the crackling fire casting their shadows upon the walls, silent sprites dancing with the townspeople. Muriel scoped the bar-counter for her family until her eyes settled on a

familiar face. "Clancy! How ya been?" A beefy man with a fat neck, a balding head that once held scruffy black hair, and kind green eyes wiped his brow and looked up from

the counter he had been polishing, stuffing the oily rag into a white, greasy-looking apron. He grinned as soon as he saw her. "Ah, Muriel, lassie! Good to see ya home!" He

peered at Severus for a moment as he wiped off his hands with the rag, quirking an eyebrow. "Now, Ms. Bernadette, did you finally bring a lad 'ome fer yer Mum? By Jove!"

Clancy leered a bit as Severus turned his head to look the other way, suddenly developing a great interest with the mugs on the _far_ end of the counter. He gave Severus a

once over and pulled Muriel close enough that she could hear him over the din of the rowdy tavern-goers. "A might bit skinny, and his hands are a little too soft of work. Get

a few meals in 'im, Mur, maybe get 'im workin' on the plow, and he'll be a proper 'usband fer ye in no time!" Muriel fought down blushing and muttered, "Husband, Clancy?

Gotta get the goat to the pen before you can tie 'em down!" He tapped his temple and gave her a wink. "You mark me words, little missy! Ye'll be gettin' hitched as sure as

the moors are green. Mark me words!" Muriel opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly, one of the older gentlemen socked his colleague in the nose and started cussing.

Clancy rolled his eyes and bellowed, "OI, YOU OL' CODGER, DONNAVIN! SETTLE DOWN, YA 'ERE?" Muriel shook her head and grinned, bidding Clancy a farewell as he broke

up the bar fight, which would start up again in no time. Muriel put an arm around Severus's waist as they walked to the other end of the bar. "_I'm home!" _she thought with

the grin of a madman.

SSSSSSS

They finally made their way to the other side of the tavern, which seemed to be even louder than the bar-counter. Naturally, the main source of the noise was Muriel's family,

all laughing as Seamus was telling his same lame jokes that they had all heard a hundred times. Archibald Sr. sat with his chair leaning against the wall, legs crossed over

each other, carving an old piece of drift wood with a whittling knife that had seen better years. Shona was sitting straight in her chair, eyeing her children sternly, yet almost

with a playfulness. Seamus, Archibald, Adair, and Cameron all sat in a semi-circle, telling jokes and teasing the barmaids with winks and a kiss or two. Donnan, Douglas,

Eachann, Gregor, and Owen were frying sausages in a greasy pan over the fire and toasting muffins on long forks, debating about whether the Minister of Magic would look

at their petition for crop distribution. Stuart, William, and Raibert were quite simply sipping their drinks casually in the corner, William reading a thick book aloud to his

brothers, interested expressions knit tightly into their features. Seamus perked up as he saw his sister. "'bout time, Murry! Sit down, have a drink!" He tapped a barmaid on

the shoulder and gave her a wink. "Hey, be a dear and get us the usual, will ya, hun?" The barmaid giggled and nodded, returning with large tankards. She set them on the

table, winked at Seamus, and left to tend to the counter. Seamus drew his cigar out of his mouth between his fingers, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into rings,

watching them soar to the rafters. He pulled a tankard from the tray and handed it to Severus with a smirk. "I 'ope ya like grog." Severus took hesitantly took the tankard

as Muriel and Seamus took there's. Muriel gave him a queer look before raising her mug into the air. "Cheers!" She leaned her head back, took a huge swig, and swallowed

it with a relish. "Damn, that's good! Clancy knows 'ow to brew a bonzer of a pint, I tell ya what!" Severus drew the drink to his lips and took a sip. "_Bloody hell, that's awful!"_

He coughed and sputtered as the eye-watering concoction slid down into his gullet, eyes boiling with water. The stomach, face, and lips felt like he had been set on fire!

Seamus laughed and slapped his knee as Severus tried to compose himself. He punched him in the back and grinned, "Well, boy-o, I'm sure as 'ell surprised! Murry could

handle that when she was a wee lass of 17!" Muriel drew herself up and clocked Seamus in the jaw. "Aw, shut up, you bleedin' 'alf wit!" She drew a handkerchief out of her

breast-pocket, dipped it in a bit of cold water from a nearby pitcher, and dabbed Severus's face apologetically. "You alright, dear?" Severus nodded, eyes still watering.

He leaned against her unconsciously and said, "Yes, I'm fine." He glared at Seamus as he gulped down of cold water. Seamus rubbed his jaw, spitting out a few teeth.

"Damn, Murry! Cheap shot!" He leered at Severus again, turning to leave. "We'll have yer initiation into the Bernadette clan soon 'nuff, Skinny. Just you wait!" Muriel picked

up a tankard and bashed him in the head as he was leaving, seething as her brother jumped onto the bar counter laughing. She sat down next to Severus and rubbed the

part of his back where Seamus had hit him, muttering. "Idiot bastard! I'm sorry, Severus. He's such a bleedin' twit!" Severus finally fully regained his vision and straightened

up. "Muriel?" She made looked at him curiously. "Yes, Severus?" He shook his head and tossed the tankard to the floor. "Never let me drink that again!" Muriel laughed as

he glared at the offending drink, a nearly playful smirk on his face as he turned back to her.

SSSSSSS

Archibald Sr. turned gazed at Muriel as she laughed with Severus, her eyes sparkling with a joy he hadn't seen since she was a child. He turned to Shona. "Whadya think,

Mum?" Shona stared at Severus, scowled, and took a swig of her gin. "I think he needs to learn how to drink!"


	16. Chapter 16 An Impatient Patient: Part I

**Notice! Please actually read this: **Hiya, readers! You know Jellybeanlover2010 and her story, Sophia's Choice, that I keep talking about? Well, this chapter is dedicated to her because, despite being in the hospital, she still helps me with the story. I can tell that all of you are very kind, so please, if you have the chance, brighten the girl's day a bit with a review of her story or even a "hi!" Get well soon, Jelly. Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

SSSSSSS

It was at 11 O'clock when Muriel and Severus left the tavern, the moon high above the trees. The snow was still thick on the road, but, thankfully, Severus was a bit more

careful on the ice this time. She turned to him. "Did ya have any fun tonight, gov'na?" Severus regarded her with a contemplative expression. "This was certainly

an...interesting day." He shifted his cloak a bit around his shoulders, shivering slightly from the cold wind. "_I can scarcely believe that I only left Hogwarts but a few hours _

_ago."_ He was pulled out of his thoughts by a queer noise. Muriel was shuffling and skidding on the ice, sliding down long, slick patches with ease. He watched her ice-skate

for a few minutes, before asking her in exasperation, "Muriel, what are you doing?" She laughed, "I'm having fun!" She smirked mischievously. "Of course, you wouldn't know

anything about _that_!" He scowled at her. "What, pray tell, are you implying?" Her hands moved to her hips. "I'm _telling_ you that you need to learn how to have fun!" His

scowl deepened as he muttered, "That's completely idiotic!" Muriel gazed at him for a moment or two, waiting for him to become lost in his thoughts, as he so often did.

Without any further hesitation, she grabbed his arm and pivoted her foot in just the right angle to accelerate them forward. Severus stumbled as they dipped down the sloped

path, swerving around benches and lampposts. "Muriel!" She rolled her eyes, shifted her foot again, and they came to a skidding halt. "Are you mad?" he blurted out angrily.

She smirked. "Darling, shouldn't you have figured that out by now? We're all a little mad, but" she said sagely, poking him in the nose, "it's the people who know how to

use it that make life fun!" He shook his head. "Is it possible for us to reach our destination without bodily harm, on my part, specifically?" Muriel frowned, gesturing to his thin

cloak. "The only thing you're in danger of is getting sick!" Severus growled. "For that last time, woman, I'm not going to get sick!" She pat him on the shoulder and shook her

head. "Keep telling yourself that, dear. See how it works out."

SSSSSSS

Muriel woke with a start, looking about wildly. "A-CHOO!" Suddenly, the noise that had awakened her ricocheted off the walls again, a sneeze that sounded like cannon fire.

"A-CHOO!" She swung her legs off her bed with a sigh, looking up at the clock, 8:30 AM. She smirked as she made her way to the guest bedroom. Her intuition had been

correct. Muriel swung open the door, leaning on the frame. "Now, Severus, what was that about not getting sick?" Severus was sitting at his desk, a stack of what looked

like student essays in front of him, rubbing his nose irritably with a handkerchief. He opened his mouth to reply, but only another violent sneeze came. "A-CHOO!"

Muriel sighed again, walked into the room, and sat down in the rocking-chair next to him, arms folded. "Bless you." She put a hand on his forehead, her frown growing

deeper. "You're hot. Stay here for a moment, if you please." Severus stood up and glared at her. "Has it occurred to you that perhaps I am overheated by the temperature

of the room, or that my sneezing is caused by dust?" She raised an eyebrow, now tapping her bare foot on the wood floor in impatience. "Severus, the fire isn't lit, and it's

snowing outside. And you _know_ that I perform a Cleansing Charm in here everyday. I'll be right back. Please, stay here." Without another word, she walked out of the room,

shutting the door behind her. She turned into the parlor, sitting down next to the telephone. Her father had installed a brass Muggle rotary phone in the parlor a few years

ago, which was far more convenient than Floo powder. She opened her address book, skimming down the page until she found Alana's number. She spun the number

and waited. The other end of the line clicked and crackled to life in response. "Hello?" Muriel sighed and leaned back into the couch. "Hello, Alana. Can I trouble you for

some help?"

SSSSSSS

Alana tangled her fingers in the telephone cord, raising an eyebrow to her sister as if she could see her. "What do you need, sis?" She heard Muriel sigh again. "_Something_

_must be wrong." _"Severus is sick, Al, but the stubborn goat won't admit it. Could you possibly come over here. and see what's wrong with him?" Alana thought for a moment,

leaning against the wall, watching Sophia play with her toy cauldron. Her fondled her chin in contemplation. "_So lover boy is sick." _She smiled devilishly. "_And if I can't take_

_care of him, his Muriel will. Hmm..." _"Sorry, Murry, but I need to go to London today for new ingredients for the lab. If I don't, the boss will have my head faster than you

can say bezoar!" She could picture her sister frowning in worry. "Well, thank you, anyway, Alana. I hope I didn't bother you." Alana smirked. "Of course not, Murry. Take

care of him!" "I will. Good day, sis." Her fingers clicked against the phone. "To you as well." The line finally died, and she set the phone in its proper place. She turned

away from the table, only to find Sophia staring at her, head cocked to the side in confusion. "Mummy, why do we have to go get new ingredients? We just went 2 days ago!"

Alana smiled and pat her daughter on the head. "We aren't, dear, but I _am_ getting you a new uncle."

SSSSSSS

Severus was sitting near the fire, drying desperately to warm up. He rubbed his cold hands in irritation. His skin was feverish, but to him, it was like pure ice. "_Blast these_

_Scottish snowstorms! Even the dungeons weren't this cold in mid-winter!" _he thought bitterly. The door suddenly creaked open, and he turned his head to get a better look,

gripping his wand. His grip relaxed when he saw it was only Muriel, balancing a tray in her arms. He raised an eyebrow and examined her appearance with an almost

amused expression. She looked like a 50's style housewife, clad in a blue polka-dotted house dress, a white bungalow apron, and heeled, pat and leather Mary Janes, a

battered tea tray full of bottles in her arms. Her hair was done up in a careless bun, and rimless spectacles sat intelligently on the end of her nose. She bent to settle the

tray on a nearby table, her glaze flitting over to him. She rolled her eyes and re-adjusted her glasses on her nose. "Oh, snicker all you want! My tartan is in the wash."

She drew herself up, smoothed out the non-existent creases in her apron, and said in a rather motherly tone, "Alright, off to bed with you, and don't even _try_ to tell me

that you're not sick! I heard you hacking like a dying chicken when I was in the parlor." He stood up and folded his arms. "I will not be treated like a child. I am perfectly

capable of taking care of myself, thank you." She put her hands on her hips. "If you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, you wouldn't be sick! Now go to bed!"


	17. Chapter 17 An Impatient Patient: Part II

Another day, another chapter. (Just one message: For those of you (both guests and fanfictioners) who read my story "Daddy's Girl", updates will be within the next 1-2 days. Thank you for your patience.) Please leave a review or a suggestion for the chapter, and I hope you enjoy. (As always, no flames, thank you.)

SSSSSSS

_Everything, everything was so hot. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and cascaded down his back, purely suffocating. His breathing, ha! To take one breath that wasn't_

_labored seemed to take a miracle. Nothing seemed to cool his feverish skin as he lay there. A cool hand resided on his forehead, allowing him to relax for, if only, a moment._

_"Muriel?" he whispered in wonder. She nodded silently, a gleam in her eyes, a smile of pure mischief upon her lips. The hand drew slowly from his forehead, taking new _

_refuge __on his burning cheek, fingering fly-away strands of his hair. His heart furiously pounded, a drum bursting with life inside of his chest. Muriel bent closer, her whispers _

_sending a __torrent of goose bumps down his spine, a shiver. They were nose to nose, __her eyelashes brushing his cheek. "Severus." The other hand clasped the side of his face _

_and seized __h__is lips. Oh, how it burned!, yet the white-hot pain searing his lips was a __sensation of bliss and terror. Her whispers played in his ear once again, as fervently, as _

_before "Severus."_

"Severus! Severus, wake up!"

Snape sat up in his bed, gasping for air, feverishly looking about the room. A hand rested on his shoulder. "Severus, calm down, dear! You were only dreaming" she said

softly, worry lacing her voice. He stared at her with glazed eyes, looking at her over and over, as if to reassure himself she was real. She pressed gently on both of his

shoulders, letting him sink back onto the bed. She shook her head and stood up. She retrieved the wash basin, pitcher, and thermometer from the desk, hastily walking back

to his bedside. "_Aguamenti!_" The basin filled with cold water, and she wrung out a cloth, placing it on Severus's forehead. "Muriel, what time is it?" Severus muttered, eyes

closed. Her eyes flitted to the clock. "It's noon, dear. Are you hungry?" He shook his head 'no'. Why did he feel so weak? "_I surely couldn't have contracted the flu this _

_quickly!" _Muriel nodded, standing again. "Well, if you're not going to eat, I have to at least give you your medicine." With that, she plucked a particularly odd-looking

bottle and a teaspoon off of the tea tray. He sat up to get a better look of the bottle as uncorked it, letting out a sickly sweet aroma that made him gag. "That isn't a potion.

What is it?" he asked suspiciously. Muriel poured the sticky concoction onto a spoon with care, taking care not to spill. "It's my grandmother's homemade cough syrup."

She tried to hand him the teaspoon. "Take this, dear. It will lessen your fever in a pinch!" Snape wrinkled his nose and grimaced. "It smells and looks ghastly! I refuse to

swallow anything I do not know the contents of." Muriel frowned, carefully set the teaspoon on the tray, and took the long, glass thermometer in between her fingers.

In a flash, she stuck it in between his teeth and under his tongue. "Now, really, Severus, I'd think you'd be a bit more mature about this, being a Potions Master!" She

pointed to the thermometer as he indignantly yanked it out of his mouth. "Besides, you're temperature is through the roof! 38.8!" (102 Fahrenheit) Severus drew back

from her with a glare. "Why do you insist on treating me like an ignorant child?" She met his glare with a scowl. "Why do you insist on acting like one?" They locked eyes

for a moment, and Severus opened his mouth to retort. With a swoop and a flash, Muriel stuffed the spoon into his mouth, and clamped his jaw shut. She smirked as he

tried to reprimand her through his teeth, only muffled nonsense. "Mmmff!" he glared at her, trying to release his jaw. She repositioned her hand on top of his head, the

other on his chin, wagging a finger. "Uh-uh! I won't let go until you swallow it!" They locked eyes again until Snape frowned, gulped, and grimaced, sticking out his tongue

slightly. "Revolting!" he grumbled bitterly. Muriel raised an eyebrow. "See, now that wasn't so bad, was it? If you're good, maybe I'll let you play outside." "Condescending

wench" he snarled under his breath. She cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled. "Perhaps, but you seemed quite fond of me while you were asleep." Muriel winked at him

as he blushed hotly, taking refuge underneath his sheets. She sighed to herself as she strolled down the hallway. "_A Potions Master that won't take his medicine. Now I've_

_seen everything!" _


	18. Chapter 18 Like Clockwork

Severus donned his cloak and scarf, straightening out his collar as he strode out of his bedroom and into the hallway. The sound of a cheerful carol floated to his ears as he

passed the parlor, where Muriel was cleaning and decorating for Christmas Eve, which was in 2 days time. He cleared his throat and waited as she stood up and

brushed dust off of her apron. "I'm going into town. I'll be back shortly" he said curtly. She nodded as she shook the dust off of a rather large and ridiculous-looking feather

duster out the window. "Alright, I'll see you later, then." With that, Muriel smiled, nodded, and went to finish her work, whistling "The Little Drummer Boy" all the while.

Snape took a fleeting glance at her and stepped into the cold daylight without another word. It was a pleasantly brisk day, and the cheer of Christmas flourished on every

wreath nailed to the wooden cottage doors and every store window display flocked with delighted children. He was like a drop of black ink blotted on the canvas of white

snow, making eye-contact with no one as he strode through the streets noiselessly, a tight scowl embedded in his harsh features. Little did he know, that amongst the crowd

full of strangers, that there was one that recognized him and smirked with unending mischief.

SSSSSSS

Alana leaned casually against the cool metal of a nearby lamp-post, a colorfully wrapped box cradled in the crook of her arm. She smirked as the dark and unmistakable

silhouette of Snape glided into the corner of her eye. She chewed on her lip as she observed him stalk through the crowd of bustling people, time seeming to slow around him

and him only. She stood straight, took a grip on the box and ran towards him, hollering over the torrents of noise. "OI, SNAPE!"

SSSSSSS

_Severus_ groaned inwardly as he recognized the shrill yelling above the crowd. He turned and, to no surprise, saw Alana, her olive green slouchy hat whipping about

comically in the wind as she bounced next to him. "Merry Christmas, Severus!" she greeted cheerfully. He rolled his eyes and turned to keep walking. Alana frowned and

quickened her step to walk next to him. "So, how have you been? I haven't seen much of you lately since we went to the tavern." Snape sighed. If Muriel was as persistent as

he thought her to be, then surely her sister would be no easier to shake off. "I've been quite busy as of late. Despite it being the holiday season, it gives me no excuse to

shirk my responsibilities as a Hogwarts employee. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd prefer to be alone." He picked up his steps, trying to mind the ice. But Alana would not be

brushed off so easily. In a near run to keep up with his long legs, she grabbed his arm to bring him to a halt. He spun around. "What do you want from me, woman?" he

snapped irritably. She shrugged and poked one of his buttons. "Just a little bit of company. Besides, we're going in the same direction anyway!" Snape let out a deep sigh of

defeat and kept walking, mustering any type of tolerance for her. To his surprise, she didn't talk very much. On the contrary, they walked in silence until she turned to him

and commented casually, "You know, Christmas is in 2 days. I've been shopping all day!" She nudged him and raised an eyebrow. "Getting anything for a special someone?"

He drew back from her and snarled. "That is entirely my business and none of yours!" She cocked her head and smirked, "Oh, of course. My apologies, Severus. You'd only

do something like that in your _dreams_." At the emphasis of the word "dream", his gaze flitted over to her, where a triumphant smirk waited for him. She drew a bit closer to

him and whispered, "Yes, I know about that dream you had. I over helping clean, and I heard you talking in your sleep." The whisper grew softer as she watched his eyes

grow wide. "_You were calling her name_." Snape grabbed her arm and pulled her back into a nearby alleyway, out of plain sight. "What do you want from me?" he hissed with

less venom than he had intended. Alana leaned back against a wall and played with the chain of pocket-watch. "Severus, you misunderstand my intentions. I'm not telling

you this to blackmail or embarrass you. I want to help you." "And what, exactly, are you attempting to aid me in?" he said coldly. She took a step forward and looked him

straight in the eye. "Look, Snape, I'm not blind or as much as a bampot as you'd like to think I am. She's told me about Halloween night, and I've seen the difference of the

way you act around _her_ and _other_ people. Bloody hell, man, you _ran _back to her! Please, make a decision whether you're going for her or not. Playing with someone is not a

good game to play, lad." With that, she tipped the brim of her hat to him and turned on her heel to leave. As she just about to leave, she felt a hand on her shoulder holding

her back. Alana turned around. "Yes?" Snape sighed and stared down the alleyway. A little voice nagged him in the back of his mind. "_You should at least get her something_

_to return the favor. After all, she got you a present. It would be common courtesy between two colleagues and nothing more." _He straightened up and folded his arms.

"Very well then. What should I get her?" Alana grinned and grabbed his wrist. "Follow me!" With that, she sped off, dragging Severus close behind.

SSSSSSS

She led him to the edge of town, where the older shops resided. It was a narrow street, but instead of the usual dirt path, it was a cobble-stone street, which had been

recently salted, that was lined with weathered buildings that still possessed the illusion of grandeur. A toy store with a window display of hand-painted marionettes and

wind-up toys seemed to be the popular destination today, especially for eager-faced children, all clamoring to take a look. The robust smells of cut wood and drying leather

floated from the carpenter and tanner's shops, while the blacksmith's shop clanged and clanked with endless noise. At the end of the row was a particularly quiet little

establishment with a humble painted sign hanging above the door in white paint: "_Douglass Cartwright, Clockmaker. Established since 1775 A.D." _Snape turned to Alana

with an eyebrow raised. "A clockmaker?" Alana waved him over to the store-display. "We're not here to look at clocks, silly. It's _this_ that she wants!" She pointed into the

dusty window pane, and he gazed in. Ornate clocks and beautifully handcrafted watches lined the shelf, but in the back left corner was a small box, lightly covered in dust.

"Let's go inside!" Alana exclaimed. She swung open the oak door, a little bell ringing as she did so, Snape following behind her. The shop was warm and musty, and it had

the smoky, comforting smell of old timber. Cogs, gears, and screws littered the workbenches, and polished shelves held hundreds of watches, clocks, and funny gizmos that

were appealing to the eye. The tick-tocking was much more of a quiet, mesmerizing hum and sent both of them into a half-trance until they heard a voice. "May I help you?"

Snape snapped out of it and looked about until he saw the source of the voice. A rather wiry man in the suit of a gentleman greeted them. The man, whom Snape assumed to

be Douglass Cartwright, was an tall fellow with an intelligent gaze and an upright mien. He appeared to be as old as the shop, and anyone who saw this white-haired relic

would immediately guess him to be 90 years old. He twisted his moustache in between his fingers and cleared his throat, taking his attention to Alana, who was examining

the box in her hands. "Ah, a wise choice, madam! I'll sell that old music box to you for a fair price as well, 15 galleons and 5 Sickles." She looked up at Cartwright with a

smile. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, sir. Then again, you of all people should know what Time does to children." He cocked his head to the side and stared at her,

until she pulled out her pocket watch. His eyes grew wide as he exclaimed, "Merlin's sundial! Alana Bernadette, bless my soul, is it you?" She nodded with a wink at the old

man. "Well, it seems you do remember. Now, Severus, would you care to take a look?" Snape held the box in his hands carefully and examined it with a slight curiosity.

It was small and sturdy, carved out of dark rosewood with delicate designs. On the lid was a scene of a lovely summer garden in a land somewhere far away, and it was held

shut with a brass clasp. He looked up and met her gaze. She smiled fondly at it and whispered, "She's wanted it ever since she was a little girl. I know that if she got it, she'd

be thrilled. But if she got it from you, well, we'll have to wait and see." He traced his fingers along the grooves of the wood and contemplated it. "_She'd be thrilled." _Without

another thought, he pulled the 15 galleons and 5 Sickles out of his pocketbook and handed them to Cartwright. The old man smiled and took the box. "A nice choice, sir.

I'll ring it up for you right away." He put the money into a battered cash box, and carefully wrapped the music box in a soft cloth and bow. He handed it to Snape with a

cheerful grin. "Merry Christmas, sir!" Snape grabbed the package and nodded, taking his leave. Alana rolled her eyes and waved to Cartwright. "Don't mind him. He's too

busy trying to win over a girl. Merry Christmas to you as well, Mr. Cartwright. Cheers!" With the ringing of the bell, Alana took her leave as well, running after Snape.


	19. Chapter 19 Smile, Severus!

Thanks for reviews, and here's the next chapter. (Make sure to check out the Sophia's Choice trilogy by Jellybeanlover2010. I recommend it.)

SSSSSSS

A sun-kissed horizon greeted the sleepy town as the sky filled with dazzling hues of magenta, orange, and violet, the snow sparkling as a thousand diamonds. Yet the peace

of the morning was shortly disturbed as Severus woke with a start to a bang and a clatter coming from down the hall. He glanced over at the clock, which read 7 'O clock on

the dot. Rolling his eyes, he rose from the bed and donned a dressing gown, walking barefoot down the hallway and to Muriel's room.

SSSSSSS

"_Where in Merlin's name did I put that bloody baton?" _

Muriel was on the verge of ripping her hair out as she dashed about her bedroom searching for her conductor's baton. Mrs. Ainslie, despite it being Christmas Eve, wanted her

to gather the Earrach Schoolhouse Choir together to practice one last time before their performance at the annual Christmas pageant. She rummaged through yet another

drawer before hearing a dry cough. "Looking for something, I presume?" She flinched in surprise before sitting up and looking towards the door, where Severus stood, a

slightly amused expression in the lines of his face. Muriel caught her fingers in the tangled mess that was her hair and sighed. "I'm looking for my chorus baton, but I can't

find it anywhere!" She closed the drawer and proceeded to rummage through the next one for the umpteenth time in a row. Snape raised an eyebrow and pulled out his

wand. "Why don't you just summon it?" Muriel bit her lip sheepishly and kept her eyes down. "Well...um...I can't." He folded his arms. "Why not?" Her face grew a tad warm

as she busied herself with the next drawer. "I was always very bad at "Accio." I could never do it right, so it usually ended up with me blowing something up." She laughed a

bit and upturned her gaze. "Flitwick didn't like me much during that lesson." Snape rolled his eyes and gave his wand a flick. "_ Accio Baton!" _In a flash, the baton flew from

underneath the dresser and into his hand. He handed it to her with a smirk. "I believe this is yours?" She slapped herself in the side of the head and took the baton. "Merlin,

I'm an idiot! The one place I didn't check! Thank you, Sev." Muriel turned to look at herself in the mirror, smoothing out the front of her dress. Mrs. Ainslie was an old soul,

which led her to enforce a strict dress code that made the women of the early 1900's smile in their graves. Much to her distaste, Muriel was clad in a long Edwardian

schoolmistress uniform. Snape tugged his collar and swallowed. "_My, um, that dress is rather...tight__."_ She tied her hair up in a high bun, pushed her spectacles up her nose,

and turned towards the door. He stepped aside to let her out, but she stopped and smiled at him. "The schoolhouse is just down the road. If you'd like to stop by to watch

us practice, I'm sure the children would be happy to have an audience." With that, she donned her cloak and made her way down the snowy road.

SSSSSSS

- Sophia sat quietly on the steps of the schoolhouse, puffing out clouds of warm, moist air and watching it float away on the chilly breeze. It was time for practice, but

Muriel had not yet arrived. From outside, Sophia could hear her schoolmates growing ever-restless as they rollicked about noisily inside. She looked about anxiously, shook

the snow off her choir robes, and stepped inside. The classroom was in chaos as paper balls flew and littered the ground, rubber-band sling-shots rocketed through the air,

and students jumped over desks. "Oi, Sophia, we're over here!" called a familiar voice over the din. Her attention snapped to a sheltered corner in the back of the room,

where her friends sat cross-legged on the floor in a circle. She sat down next to her best friend, Pepper Beattie, with a grateful smile. "Dang, this place is nuts today!" she

said with a shake of her head. Duffy, the eldest boy in the group, pulled out a slingshot from his back pocket with a mischievous grin. "It's about to get even nuttier!" Molly

frowned and folded her arms. "Hey, how come _you_ get to use it?" Duffy climbed on top of a chair and aimed at a lamp on the teacher's desk. "I get to use it, 'cause I'm 7,

which makes me the oldest and the smartest! So shut up, dummy!" Kate rolled her eyes. "If you're the smartest, then we're doomed!" The group laughed as Duffy

glared and stuck out his tongue at her. "Yeah, yeah, whatever! Just watch!" He placed a pebble in the sling-shot and pulled the band back, ready to fire. "DUFFY BOWERS!"

The classroom went dead silent as all eyes turned towards the door, where Muriel stood with hands on her hips and a frown. "Put it away. You'll shoot your eye out!"

Duffy hung his head sheepishly and put the slingshot away as the others laughed. Muriel stood straight as she surveyed the classroom. "Marie, you know there's no gum

allowed in the classroom. Spit it out! Joshua, stop pulling Jenny's hair! Dustin! Cassidy! Brian! You 3 can play "Cowboys and Indians" later. As much as I hate to spoil the

fun, it's time for practice. Line up, children!" They all did as they were told and fled toward the risers in front of the chalkboard. Muriel smiled at them all, and with a tap of

her baton on the music stand, the choir broke out into a rendition of "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs."

SSSSSSS

- Little did they know, that amongst all the chaos, someone had slipped in the door while they practiced. Snape stood in a dim corner of the classroom, listening to the

music with little interest. He watched as the baton ripped through the air, and as Muriel softly muttered the words to herself. 5 songs had passed so far, and suddenly, they

stopped. "Alright, children, you may take a 20 minute break, and kindly keep the noise down." Just as she was about to sit down at her desk, a shrill voice made her stop

stock-still. "BERNADETTE!" Muriel turned around in a subdued manner that Snape had never seen before. "Yes, Mrs. Ainslie?" Mrs. Ainslie was a vicious old battle-ax with

cold hawk-like eyes, a hooked nose, and wrinkles that made her look like an English bulldog scowling. "Bernadette, get your lazy arse in my office! We need to go over the

plans for tonight's performance. NOW!" She nodded obediently and followed her. "Yes, ma'am. Of course." The two women left, leaving the children to their own devices.

- As Snape turned to leave, he felt a tug on his coat-tail. He peered over his shoulder, then downwards, only to see Sophia staring curiously back at him. "Unhand me,

child!" he barked at her, pulling her hand away. She cocked her head to the side and wrinkled her brow. "Why do you have to go? Auntie Murry will be back soon! I think

she'd be happy to see ya!" With that, she pulled him by the arm to a chair and urged him to sit down. "_Why must everyone in this infernal family be so persistent?" _At last,

he decided to wait and greet Muriel, and sat down. Sophia eagerly sat next to him, looking him up and down. They sat and listened to the din until she piped up again. "You

know, Auntie Murry likes you. _A lot_. Do you?" His eyes snapped over to the child's face in concealed surprise, annoyance gnawing at his insides. "That is entirely my business

and none of yours, you irksome brat" he hissed. Unfazed by his hostility, she persisted further. "Maybe she'd like you even more if you smiled!" At that comment, Snape

stared at her in disbelief, mingled with disgust, annoyance, a dash of embarrassment. Thinking that he was confused, she offered an explanation. "Auntie Murry likes it when

people are happy. You never look happy, ever! Smile, it's not that hard, honest!" To prove her point, she flashed him the biggest grin she could muster. Feeling rather

nauseated, Snape stood up and moved away from her, muttering something about "hyperactivity and nosiness." Sophia sighed and scooted off the chair, rejoining her

friends. Duffy munched on an apple as Molly, Kate, and Tessie practiced cat's cradle with colored thread. Pepper sat down next to her, concern evident. "Sophy, what's the

matter? Who was that cranky-looking fella?" "That's 'fessor Snape. He's the guy who fancies my Auntie Murry." She explained the whole dilemma to Pepper in earnest, who

listened carefully. Pepper passed it on to Duffy, who told Molly and Kate, who told July, who told Tessie. The story spread like wildfire through the rest of the classroom, and

soon all of the children were stealing glances at Snape, trying to read his face. Three sisters, Connie, Bonnie, and Ronnie Boylan joined Sophia and the others in the corner,

brainstorming ideas. The group grew steadily bigger, and Snape began to feel as though something diabolical was brewing in the midst of these children.

SSSSSSS

- "Okay, we all know the plan? Good, let's go!"

Sophia, Pepper, Tessie, Duffy, July, Kate, and Molly, walked over to the risers innocently and sat down. Sophia stood, cleared her throat, and began, music from a crackling

radio in the background. "_Hey, hobo man! Hey, Dapper Dan! You both got your style, but brother, you're never fully dressed without a smile!" _The 6 other children chimed in

on the chorus, and, on the signal, the others joined in. "_Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly, they stand out a mile! But brother, you're never fully dressed without a smile!"_

Pepper dug through a dress-up trunk and retrieved a feather boa, a pair of sunglasses, and a top hat. Duffy donned the top hat, and Molly took his arm while putting on the

boa and sunglasses. "_Who cares what they're wearing on Main Street or Saville Row? It's what you wear from ear to ear, and not from head to toe that matters!" _Tessie

jumped up on a stool and gestured. "Ah, the lovely Boylan Sisters!" The three girls broke out into a chorus with the harmony. "_Doodle doo do doo! So Senator, so Janitor! _

_So long for a while! Remember, you're never fully dressed without a smile!" _Snape watched in a kind of horror as the children danced and sang, trying to brush off July and

Kate, who were trying to get him to join in. The chorus carried on, and the children belted out the last lines as loud as they could. "_So Senator, so Janitor! So long for a while!_

_Remember, you're never fully dressed, though you may wear the best! You're never fully dressed without a smile, smile, smile! SMILE, DARN YA, SMILE!" _At the last verse,

Sophia heard footsteps coming up the walk-way. "Everyone, go back to normal! Ainslie is coming back!" Quick as lightning, they put the room back together just as Ainslie

and Muriel walked in. She surveyed the room with sharp eyes until they landed on Snape. "BERNADETTE, why is there a pommie in my schoolhouse?" Muriel cleared her

throat nervously. "Um, that's my colleague, Professor Snape." Ainslie's eyes lit with a fire as she snarled, "SNAPE? That's a Brit's name! Get him OUT!" She stomped out and

slammed the door as Muriel gestured to him to follow her. He nodded and followed her through the back-door and down the steps onto a small lot. Sophia and the gang

clamored around the window and opened it a crack, listening intently. Muriel hung her head abashedly and stammered. "Um, I-I'm very sorry, Severus. I-I forgot that

Mrs. Ainslie doesn't like Brits." Snape glanced up at the window to see Sophia giving him a thumbs up and popping out of sight again. Against his better judgment,

the corners of his mouth began to twitch upwards slowly until they formed a half-smile. He cleared his throat and tried to adapt to speaking with the unfamiliar expression.

"That's quite alright, Muriel. It wasn't your fault." She looked up with surprise at him, and her surprise only increased when she saw his expression. "Well, thank you,

Severus, and thank you for watching us practice. It was sweet of you to come." As Muriel turned to leave, she added, "You have a lovely smile. Do it more often, dear."


End file.
